


a lantern in the darkness

by superhusbands4ever (Potterwatch97)



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Luke Skywalker, Canon-Typical Violence, Combines Disney and Legends, Dark Din Djarin, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Eventual Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Din Djarin, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Good Parent Din Djarin, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mand'alor the Reluctant, Minor Character Death, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2, The Mandalorian Darksaber (Star Wars), This isn't how the Force works, We Love Two Gay Space Dads, i do not know enough about star wars to be writing this and i do not care, just a bit, mand'alor din djarin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28975419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potterwatch97/pseuds/superhusbands4ever
Summary: Danger. Help. Please.It hit him all at once.What began as a gentle prodding turned into a rushing tidal wave, a tsunami of thought and picture and emotion. His knees felt weak with the strength of it and Luke felt himself wobble, felt hands grasp his arm and shoulders as he was guided down, but reality fell away from him as images, visions, started flashing like a holo on the inside of his eyelids--Sitting in the dark, voices and blaster shots coming from the distance but getting closer and closer. Fear, paralyzing fear. Afraid and alone in the dark for so long--And then, light.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 355
Kudos: 1013





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> is this how the force works? idk. do I care? nope. the world is my sandbox.
> 
> I watched The Mandalorian and read Separate Ways now I'm in dinluke hell. I've only seen 4 star wars movies. bear with me here. I promise I'm doing some research, wookiepedia is my new best friend lmao
> 
> I haven't decided if this will have actual plot or just a few chapters of two space gays pining after each other. Time will tell. Until then, have a prologue. Next chapter soon-ish, probably next week
> 
> thanks to WhoTheFlsV and Pterawaters on the dinluke server for beta-ing this chapter!

The cry, when he first heard it, was not loud, but it was powerful. Like a gentle, tentative prodding - fearful, but desperate. Full of hope and terror and pain and longing all at once, but full of a power Luke hadn’t felt from another in years.

_Help. Please._

Luke gasped at the wave of emotion flowing through the Force, his eyes slipping closed against the intensity.

“Luke?” 

He could hear Leia’s voice distantly, could hear the concern and wondered if it was for him or if she could feel the power behind that whisper into the Force for herself.

_Help. Jedi._

_Where are you?_ Luke thought desperately, reaching out to that tiny buy bright blip within the Force, _How can I help?_

_Jedi. Grogu. Help._

The voice was painfully young, bright and innocent in a way that spoke of childhood. He could feel their frustration at being unable to communicate, knowing what they wanted to say but not having the words to say it.

Just a baby.

_Grogu,_ Luke thought, reaching out further, _how can I help you, little one?_

He felt the presence start to pull back and Luke panicked, reached out further, pushed harder to grasp them back within the Force--

_Father. Danger. Please._

It hit him all at once.

What began as a gentle prodding turned into a rushing tidal wave, a tsunami of thought and picture and emotion. His knees felt weak with the strength of it and he felt himself wobble, felt hands grasp his arm and shoulders as he was guided down, but reality fell away from him as images, visions, started flashing like a holo on the inside of his eyelids--

Sitting in the dark, voices and blaster shots coming from the distance but getting closer and closer. Fear, paralyzing fear. Afraid and alone in the dark for so long--

And then, light.

He was sitting in a pile of blankets, staring up at a bright golden light, a man in a suit of armor and a shining silver helmet shrouded within. The golden light seemed to be pouring from this helmeted man - _a Mandalorian,_ Luke realized - and the light pulsed as Luke looked up at him through the child’s eyes.

_Safe,_ the Force seemed to whisper to him, _safe._

The Mandalorian stared back at him, the golden light pulsating around him, reaching out to Luke as the Mandalorian lifted a finger to reach out towards the child, and Luke felt his hand – _the child’s hand_ – lift to grab on--

The vision changed and suddenly he was outside, watching the Mandalorian, still surrounded by that golden light, staring up in shock at the mudhorn floating gently above him. Luke could feel the power running through the child as he raised his arm and lifted the beast--

_Help. Protect._

A flash and suddenly it's dark, the stars were shining above him and he's staring up into the t-visor of the helmet. A blanket is swaddling him, and despite the sounds and flashing lights of blaster fire, the smoke and screams of battle raging around him, he's tucked into the Mandalorian's arms, warm and held protectively against a shining silver chest. The soft golden light surrounding him reflects against the silver helmet like the stars above and the blaster fire below, like a halo of warm sunlight and Luke - _Gorgu -_ coos as the Force sings between them-

_Safe._

He was staring down at a droid with a blaster bolt hole through its chest. The Mandalorian was standing behind him with a smoking blaster. The Mandalorian rushed forward and gently picked him up, running soft gloved hands across his back and head, checking for injury--

He was staring down at the Mandalorian, the Mandalorian was hurt, he was dying, someone was coming, someone _dark,_ they didn’t have time--

Luke felt his arm lift through the child, holding back the flames shooting from the Flametrooper, pushing them back into the nozzle until it exploded in a fiery ball of heat and light and the child held that back too, Force-shielded the group crouched behind his tiny body--

The Mandalorian, shrouded in that ever-present golden light, lifted the child up, warm and gentle in his arms, and flew off into the sun, jetpack propelling them away as the child stared down at the wreckage of the crashed tie-fighter below--

_Safe. Warm._

The Mandalorian, silver armor and golden light, fighting off a giant Ice Spiders--

\--fighting off bounty hunters--

\--flying out of the mouth of a kriffing _Krayt dragon_ as it fried in a storm of electricity behind him--

The Mandalorian, silver armor and golden light, holding the child in his arms, feeding him a cup of soup, holding him in his lap in the cockpit of a ship, pointing out different star constellations, tucking the child into a hammock, rocking him to sleep, holding up a silver ball for the child to pull from his hands, brushing a hand over the child’s head, wiping sick from the child’s robes, tucking the child against his chest--

_Safe. Warm._

_Home._

Luke could feel the affection, the _love_ Grogu had for the Mandalorian - for his _father_ \- flowing through the Force, strong and pure and made of golden sunlight. He could feel Grogu's fear, Grogu's powerlessness, Grogu's _guilt_ because this man, this Mandalorian, was being hunted, chased across the galaxy, always fighting, always protecting, always _tired_ and _suffering_ because people were after Grogu. The Imperial remnants were after Grogu, and Grogu had the Mandalorian to protect him from his enemies, from the people who wanted to harm Grogu, and Grogu had this power, had these abilities but he didn't know how to use them, how to control them, he was _afraid_ to use them--

All at once, reality snapped back to Luke and he gasped as his eyes snapped open, the images falling away. The sudden rush of emotion and thought pulled back, back to a gentle - yet powerful - nudging at his mind.

_Jedi. Help. Protect._

_I can help you,_ Luke thought, his eyes burning slightly against the cocktail of emotions the poor child was emitting into the Force. _I can train you. I can help you protect him._

He felt the nudge pulling back, that tendril of the Force slipping away gently, but before it did he felt a glimmer of hope, of satisfaction at the knowledge that someone could help them, could help the child, help his family.

_Help. Jedi. Please._

Just as quickly as it had arrived the presence was gone and the Force settled around Luke, humming in his mind, tingling in his skin, in his blood--

“Luke?”

Luke jolted back to himself and met the worried eyes of Leia and Han crouched down in front of him, Artoo beeping concernedly in the background. Han must’ve caught Luke and lowered him into a chair when his knees gave out under the onslaught of emotion. Said man was crouched in front of him, one hand on the arm of the chair as he stared up at Luke with concern in his eyes. Luke glanced over at Leia and saw her own eyes were bright as moisture gathered within, her own breathing a little heavy as her mouth hung slightly open in shock.

Luke gulped. “Did you…?”

“I felt something,” Leia said softly. Han glanced between the two, worry clear in his eyes. “I couldn’t… I didn’t feel everything, but I felt… I could feel their fear, the desperation. It was… it was strong.”

“Kid, what’s going on?” Han asked, brows furrowed.

“There’s a child,” Luke whispered, suddenly feeling exhausted from the onslaught of emotions. “A force-sensitive child. They called to me, they need my help.”

He felt the Force sing through him at the thought.

Leia and Han shared a long glance with each other.

“So what are you going to do?” Leia asked.

“I’m going to find them. And I’m going to help them,” Luke said, eyes slipping closed once more, “but I….”

He paused and felt Leia’s hand against his knee.

“Luke? What’s wrong?”

In his mind’s eye he saw silver armor shrouded in bright, golden light.

Luke swore he felt the Force hum through him even louder.

“I don’t think they’re the only one.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke had just stepped into the elevator, Artoo rolling in beside him, and turned the child around in his arms for one last look at his father when suddenly the kid started squirming. Glancing down at him, he saw moisture gather in Grogu’s eyes as he looked at the other man, and he started squirming even more.
> 
> The door started to close but Grogu threw a hand out, pushing the door back open and letting out a terrified cry, reaching back for the Mandalorian and practically throwing himself out of Luke’s arms. Luke quickly bent down to place the child on the ground before he accidentally dropped him, and Grogu immediately took off as fast as his little legs would carry him once his feet hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have discovered writing in star wars fandom feels like in the MCU where they throw "quantum" in front of everything but with "Force" instead lmao
> 
> thank you all for the lovely response to last chapter! I have decided that this story WILL have plot so buckle up because I have three pages of single spaced plot planned so far and I'm only halfway done lmao
> 
> this chapter and the next are mostly setting up the story and then chapter 3 will start the ~fun stuff~  
> Until then, have some Luke swooning and being a disaster gay
> 
> thank you to ratsbys on the dinluke server for being an awesome beta!

The only thing that greeted Luke when he arrived at Tython was a giant crater and a pile of Stormtrooper bodies.

_Did I take too long?_

Artoo beeped mournfully in the background.

Despite his own exhaustion from the intensity of Grogu’s cry, Luke had left quickly afterwards. Leia had suggested resting first, that if the child was with his father then he could wait a little longer, but Luke would argue that they had been waiting long enough. He’d paused long enough to meditate, to try and find a ghost of Grogu’s cry lingering in the Force for him to follow, and was quick to hop in his X-wing and go where his instincts told him.

He was surprised when he arrived at Tython, not expecting Grogu to have been so close. He was there within an hour of leaving Coruscant, yet it appeared he was still too late.

Ash floated on the breeze as it blew gently, deceptively calm for all the destruction surrounding him. Metal debris littered the area. There was nothing left that was recognizable.

Luke crouched down and pressed his gloved hand to the burnt ground, closing his eyes as he inhaled a long breath. 

In his mind's eye he saw a flash of silver and fiery red and orange of explosion but nothing more. He sincerely hoped no one had been on that ship when it blew.

Up at the temple ruins he felt more. Fear, mainly. Desperation. Pain.

Grief.

But standing at the ancient temple, with the Force rushing through the ruins like a tidal wave, he can still feel Grogu’s Force signature lingering. The same gentle yet powerful presence, tainted as it was with terror.

He could feel another presence lingering, but it was faint, like someone whispering from another room, or a loose hair tickling against his skin. While Grogu’s Force signature pulls him away from the temple, leading him to wherever Grogu had been taken, the second signature lingers. It bobs in place faintly, fading more and more the longer he stands there, like smoke dissipating into the air, and he can’t hold on to it.

Luke shook himself from his thoughts. There were more pressing matters to deal with. He needed to get to Grogu.

“Come on, Artoo. I fear we may need to hurry.”

~

Dropping out of hyperspace and seeing an Imperial light cruiser was not what Luke expected, but he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised given the carnage on Tython. But he knew he was in the right place, because immediately upon seeing the ship Luke could feel Grogu’s presence in the Force clear as day.

Once he boarded the cruiser and climbed out of the X-wing, he was even more surprised to see the officer and stormtrooper bodies littering the floor.

Clearly he had missed all the fun.

Or maybe that was a little too presumptuous of him, because as he turned a corner down another hallway, black cloak billowing dramatically behind him, he came face to face with a group of tall black droids.

Without thought his lightsaber was in his hand, the hallway glowing green as he brought it down upon the first droid, moving quickly to the second. Cold anger filled him as he looked at the helmets, a poor, tasteless imitation of his fathers own helmet, but he pushed it aside. He knew what his father was - what he’d done under the name of Darth Vader - and the space he held in the mind of the Empire. He understood why they would cling to that image even if Luke himself was conflicted by it.

He let his mind fall blank as he quickly but ruthlessly tore through droid after droid, all thoughts gone except for saving Grogu.

He released his clenched fist and watched as the last droid fell to the ground, crumpled in upon itself. He stepped over it, walking toward the blast doors that separated him from the child. He knew he was close, he could feel Grogu very clearly on the other side and he knew Grogu could feel him to.

Once the blast doors opened, Luke walked swiftly inside through the fog, holding his lightsaber down and to the side to show that he meant no harm. When no one immediately attacked, he retracted the saber and clipped it to his belt. He felt no ill intent in this room; the Force was singing a lighthearted pitch around him that told him no one here would harm him. Once the fog cleared he reached up to pull back his hood.

The first thing he noticed upon looking around the group was the black haired woman in an old rebel shock trooper uniform, holding a rifle and pointing it down at an unconscious Imperial Moff Gideon who was tied up at her feet. 

_What… the hell did I just walk in on?_

He noticed two female Mandalorians standing in the back of the room, blasters drawn and pointed at him, and next to them what looked to be the assassin Fennec Shand, holding her own rifle but pointing it at the ground, a bored look upon her face as she stared impassively at him.

Deciding to ignore that for now, he turned to the last human figure standing closer to him in the room.

He recognized the Mandalorian in front of him as the one from Grogu’s memories, t-visor gaze boring straight into Luke’s eyes, his armor shining and gleaming in the artificial light of the command room, armed to the teeth and holding so much tension in his body Luke was almost afraid he might spontaneously combust.

Clearly this was Grogu’s father; Luke could practically feel the protective instinct radiating from the man, and though he wasn’t glowing golden light like he seemed to constantly in Grogu’s memories, the Force did seem to ebb and flow around him in a way that Luke couldn’t begin to explain or figure out. It felt like the Force was practically pulling Luke toward this man, like a neon sign flashing ‘ _over here’_ brighter than those in the shopping levels of Coruscant.

“Are you a Jedi?”

It took every ounce of Luke’s, admittedly, very small self control to not glance back incredulously at the carnage of droid bodies behind him. Personally he thought the showmanship of his entrance was answer enough but, he supposed, Jedi weren’t exactly sprawling across the Galaxy these days like they used to. Clearly the Mandalorian hadn’t recognized him from the war, which was oddly refreshing.

He tried to ignore the very small part of his brain that was a little put out that the Mandalorian apparently hadn’t been very impressed by Luke’s display.

“I am,” he said instead, trying hard to keep his elusive-and-powerful-yet-serene Jedi persona on.

The Mandalorian had nothing to say to that as he continued to stare tensely at Luke from behind his t-visor, which was fine by Grogu apparently, as the tiny child made himself known by peeking around the console chair to look at Luke, little coos escaping from him.

Luke knew the child was very small and likely not a human or humanoid species from the memories he had seen, but he still wasn’t prepared for the way his breath was physically knocked from his body at the sight of a little toddler whatever-species-Yoda-was. Standing in the room with him, Luke could feel that this child was strong in the Force just like Master Yoda had been and distantly Luke wondered if maybe that was the norm for that species.

Big brown eyes stared at him with cautious optimism, anxious anticipation seeping from the child and into Luke’s senses as his ears perked up when Luke looked over to him.

“Come, little one,” he said, lifting a hand and trying to coax the child out from behind the chair. Grogu’s ears dropped slightly and he chirped apprehensively, glancing at his father.

“He doesn’t want to go with you,” the Mandalorian said roughly, voice tight with emotion.

Luke felt his heart twist slightly, recognizing the reluctance of a parent to give up their child to anyone, let alone a literal stranger who just slaughtered forty Imperial droids without breaking a sweat. Wildly, his brain flashed to the day Han had pretended not to cry after dropping Ben off at his first day of daycare, though this situation was not _remotely_ the same.

Grogu cooed again and glanced over to Luke.

“He wants your permission,” Luke said as gently as possible.

The Mandalorian sighed and looked at the ground, his shoulders dropping slightly in defeat. He glanced over to Grogu, who cooed slightly in response before walking over to pick the child up in a gentle, well practiced hold.

Luke tried to give the two privacy as they said their goodbyes, but it was hard not to be drawn in by these two individuals who were practically dripping in Force energy with the way it seemed to cling to them so closely. Luke could tell there was a very strong bond between Grogu and this Mandalorian, loving and warm and tender, and he felt his own body warm to be in the presence of such raw, unadulterated affection.

For all that the Mandalorian seemed like an inscrutable, stony man, his emotions bled into the Force so powerfully he may as well have been screaming them for the whole Galaxy to hear. Luke felt his every ache and pain, he felt his relief at rescuing his son from a terrible fate at the hands of the Empire, but also his despair at the knowledge that he was going to have to willingly give his son away again. Luke could feel the man’s conflict of wanting his child to be safe, wanting to keep his child safe with _him,_ and the doubt he felt in his own abilities to be able to do so.

It was interesting how much the Force seemed to cling to this man, yet Luke had trouble sensing if the Mandalorian had an inkling or awareness of it. He had assumed when he saw Grogu’s memories that his father was Force sensitive too, and the way the Force interacted with him made it appear like he would be. But if the Mandalorian did have any Force sensitivity, he didn’t seem to be aware of it at all. Somehow Luke doubted he would be feeding his emotions into the Force so strongly if he had any knowledge or control over it.

Maybe it was the bond he had with the child Luke was sensing? Or maybe Grogu’s Force sensitivity was so strong, he had been feeling _that_ when he was viewing Grogu’s own memories. The kid was certainly powerful enough.

But then what was the golden light that seemed to glow around the man in Grogu’s mind? Why couldn’t Luke see it now?

When the Mandalorian reached up and pulled his helmet off, the shock trooper let out a tiny gasp and Luke felt a swoop of something sweep through his body and into his blood. Grogu looked up at his father in awe, his little hand reaching up to touch his father’s bare face.

It was no wonder the Mandalorian wore a helmet because his face was possibly the most expressive face Luke had ever seen. His eyes, big and brown and bright (a lot like Grogu’s, actually) shone with every single emotion Luke could feel flowing into the Force. His eyes closed in heartbreaking anguish as Grogu’s hand touched his face reverently, and Luke had to wonder if this was the child’s first time ever seeing his father’s face.

_‘Just for once, let me look on you with my own eyes.’_

The memory punched him in the gut and left him breathless, and Luke had half a mind to turn around and leave right there without even touching the child. His throat tightened as he watched the pair say goodbye. _Grogu wanted this,_ he had to remind himself, _Grogu asked you to do this._

The Mandalorian slowly crouched down, setting his helmet on the ground and then gently placing Grogu on tiny feet before standing up and looking Luke in the eye. 

(Luke felt all the air leave his body at the intensity of the Mando’s stare and he hoped and prayed to any deity listening that he wasn’t blushing red right now. His skin felt like it was tingling.

_What the hell?)_

Grogu cooed and reached back up to his father, grasping at his leg, and Luke saw the man’s heart break all over again, his body tense as every fiber of his being fought to reach down and scoop the child up again, hold on tight and never let go. Even Grogu himself, who had been prepared to leave not five minutes ago, suddenly seemed unsure and apprehensive about leaving his father again.

Luke opened his mouth, ready to tell Grogu himself that the child didn’t have to leave if he truly didn’t want to, when Artoo decided to stop taking his sweet time and rolled into the room.

Artoo beeped excitedly and the child turned his attention to the astromech, little face lighting up in recognition. In his mind's eye he saw a flash of a cleaner, newer looking blue astromech beeping in the halls of a temple - the Jedi temple that now lay in ruins on Coruscant. Grogu must recognize the droid from years ago - Luke wondered distantly how old this child was, remembering Master Yoda mentioning living for many centuries before he passed.

Once the child was in his arms, he stood and made eye contact with the Mandalorian. The poor man looked so tired, shoulders slumped as though he was holding the whole weight of Tatooine upon them. His eyes were a contradiction of beauty, so dark they were almost black yet they shined so bright Luke thought he could see the entire Galaxy reflected within them.

He mentally shook himself from his thoughts. He tried to send calm and peaceful emotions through the Force, trying to help the Mandalorian settle. The man’s feelings didn’t change, but his lips quirked up in the smallest of sad smiles and he nodded slightly, so Luke counted that as a win.

“May the Force be with you,” he said gently, nodding back to the man before turning to walk to the elevator with Grogu in his arm, Artoo rolling silently beside them.

Luke had just stepped into the elevator, Artoo rolling in beside him, and turned the child around in his arms for one last look at his father when suddenly the kid started squirming. Glancing down at him, he saw moisture gather in Grogu’s eyes as he looked at the other man, and he started squirming even more.

The door started to close but Grogu threw a hand out, pushing the door back open and letting out a terrified cry, reaching back for the Mandalorian and practically throwing himself out of Luke’s arms. Luke quickly bent down to place the child on the ground before he accidentally dropped him, and Grogu immediately took off as fast as his little legs would carry him once his feet hit the ground.

Grogu didn’t have to go far, of course, because the Mandalorian was rushing forward to meet him, collapsing on his knees on the ground and scooping the child up to his shoulder before Luke could even blink. The child was crying softly, clinging to the cape around the Mandalorian’s neck, and the Mandalorian in question had his own tears dripping down his face.

“ _Grogu,_ ” he whispered, and the child twitched slightly in his arms, “Shhhh, _ad’ika_ , it’s okay.”

The child seemed to cling tighter and the man looked up to Luke.

“I thought you said he wanted to go with you?” The Mandalorian didn’t even sound accusatory, just confused and exhausted and Luke honestly felt bad for dragging his emotions out like this for so long.

“He does,” Luke said slowly, staring down at Grogu with a furrowed brow. “He’s scared, I think. He’s been through a lot and he… he feels safer with you.”

The Mandalorian nodded and lifted a hand to run soothingly over Grogu’s lowered ears.

“Grogu, I told you. You have to go with him. He can keep you safe just as well as I can. Maybe even better.”

Grogu whined at that, pushing his face into the Mando’s neck.

“I don’t want to give you up,” the man whispered, brushing his lips against Grogu’s floppy ear, “but this is what’s best for you, ad’ika.”

Luke felt his mouth open before he could fully process what he was doing.

“You could come with us.”

He honestly had no clue what possessed him to make that offer, and he could practically feel Master Yoda wacking his legs with his cane and yelling about attachments, but Luke really couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew how it felt to be separated from your father and he couldn’t bear to be the one to do it to another child if they didn’t _truly_ want to. Not if there was another option.

(There was also a small, selfish part of Luke that wanted to see more of this man, this mysterious Mandalorian father with shining silver armor who’s energy within the Force seemed to reel Luke in like he had his own gravitational pull—)

He could feel the rush of sad longing sweep over the man on the floor in front of his, cradling his baby so gently against his chest. The two other Mandalorians in the room shifted on their feet, one of them taking an aborted step forward. 

The Mandalorian glanced to the left like he felt the other woman’s movement before looking down at Grogu and sighing deeply.

“I can’t,” he said softly. It looked like it physically pained him to say it. “There are things that I have to take care of and… I won’t drag him into that. It’s too dangerous.”

Luke nodded slowly and knelt down in front of the man.

“Grogu,” Luke called gently. He felt a rush of affection when the child pulled back to look at him with wet eyes. “I know it’s scary. And I know we don’t know each other. But I promise I will take good care of you until you see your father again.”

Grogu perked up at that and so did his father, who looked at Luke with thinly veiled astonishment.

“I thought--”

“You two share a bond that is… too great, too powerful for me to try and break, even if I wanted to,” Luke said softly, gloved hand lifting to brush a finger over Grogu’s ear. The child cooed softly and leaned into the touch.

“It’d probably do more harm if I tried, really,” Luke said quietly to himself.

He folded his hands together in front of him and looked into the Mandalorian’s eyes.

“Give us time,” he said, trying to push feelings of reassurance and calm through the Force to both the man and the child in his arms, “let us get settled and started on his training. You handle whatever business it is you need to take care of. When the time is right, your bond will bring you back to each other. I won’t try to keep you apart.”

He locked eyes with the Mando, put on his most serious, Jedi persona, and said:

“I would give my life to protect the child. He will be safe with me. I promise, you will see him again.”

The Mandalorian sat there, still knelt on the ground with arms tight around the baby, and held his gaze. Luke wasn’t sure how much time had passed before finally the Mandalorian slowly nodded, and Grogu turned to hold his hands out toward the Jedi once more.

~

It wasn’t until they were back in the X-wing, entering gently into hyperspace that Luke felt a nudge of displeasure through the Force.

He looked down to the child sitting in his lap. Grogu stared back up at him, eyes squinting and ears tipping back slightly in what Luke could only describe as a child-like scowl.

“What?” Luke said defensively. “You’ve only been with me like ten minutes, you can’t possibly be tired of me already.”

 _Leia would beg to differ,_ his traitorous mind thinks. He ignored it. He was a pleasure to be around, _thank you,_ Leia.

Grogu said nothing, just tilted his head to the side in a way that made Luke feel oddly like he was being scolded.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Artoo beeped over the com.

“Screwed up? What are you talking about? I handled that great, what could I have possibly done wro—“

Artoo beeped again and Luke felt his stomach drop to the floor, his face heating up in embarrassment.

“Oh, dank farrik,” he mumbled under this breath, burying his face in his hands. “ _Shit!_ I didn’t even tell him my name.”

Grogu gave a reprimanding coo from his lap.

Artoo twittered and Luke felt his ears burn red.

“Shut _up,_ Artoo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artoo said: you were too busy getting lost in his eyes
> 
> I'm on tumblr! @superhusbands4ever


	3. one day it's here and then it's gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stood staring at the door to the elevator long after it had closed.
> 
> Eventually he could hear the others behind him move around and someone grunted as what sounded like a body was dragged across the floor. Bo-Katan barked an order to Koska about getting the ship moving again.
> 
> Through it all, Din stood in the archway of the blast doors and stared at the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay chapter 2!! This one is more setting up the story with a bit of foreshadowing and a tiny bit of ~plot~ thrown in. Next chapter is when the fun really begins! And the plot! I am very excited for you all to see it :)
> 
> Until then, enjoy Din being angsty and kinda sad. Bo-Katan is a bitch in this one but she gets better later
> 
> Thanks to ratsbys once again for the beta!
> 
> Chapter title from One Day by Kodaline

He stood staring at the door to the elevator long after it had closed.

Eventually he could hear the others behind him move around and someone grunted as what sounded like a body was dragged across the floor. Bo-Katan barked an order to Koska about getting the ship moving again.

Through it all, Din stood in the archway of the blast doors and stared at the elevator.

“Mando?”

Din jumped at Cara’s voice and turned to answer her before he froze. 

He’d left his helmet on the floor when he ran to meet Grogu.

He tried to ignore the dread that pooled in his stomach, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. He supposed it didn’t matter now, when it came down to it. He’d taken the helmet off - Maker, he’d shown his _face_ to the _enemy_ \- in that Imperial facility. Sure, they were all dead now, but they had seen his face. He’d removed the helmet. 

_Everybody’s got lines that they don’t cross until things get messy._

Even if he could argue away the Imperials seeing him, the Jedi had seen him too. He hadn’t even thought about the consequences of taking it off in front of the Jedi. His only thought had been Grogu leaving, possibly forever, with only the memory of a cold, emotionless helmet to take with him. Just the thought of that had filled Din’s heart with something so cold, something so painful, he’d pulled the helmet off before he’d even registered he was doing it.

Because with Grogu, it was different. With Grogu, _everything_ was different. Everyone around Din only ever saw the helmet, the visor, _The Mandalorian,_ but Grogu had gotten under his skin and into his heart in a way that no other living thing had in _years_ . Grogu had seen the parts of his soul that Din had been too afraid to show anyone, to let anyone near since that day on Aq Vetina almost 30 years ago. Somehow Grogu had managed to peel back the beskar armor he wore not just on his body, but around his heart, and the kid had seen the softer parts of himself that Din was usually too afraid to show. He’d wanted Grogu to remember him as that man, as _Din Djarin,_ rather than The Mandalorian that everyone else got to see. Because Grogu wasn’t like everyone else. 

Grogu was his _son._ Din’s _ad’ika._ His baby, no matter how much he’d tried to avoid thinking it until now.

So he’d pulled the helmet off. Mind filled with the thought of giving Grogu something kinder, gentler to remember him by, he hadn’t even considered the fact that the Jedi was standing directly in front of him staring straight at his face. He’d paid no mind to the Jedi, consumed with the urge to look upon his son with his own eyes for once instead of through the screens and distorted filters of the HUD under his helmet.

So really, considering how much time he had spent staring into the bright blue eyes of the Jedi, a complete stranger, allowing Cara to see his face should be no issue. But now that his emotions were cresting the wave and exhaustion was settling into his bones, he could feel his baser instincts kicking in and the thought of showing anyone his face right now felt… dirty. Showing his face to someone like _Bo-Katan_ , someone he still wasn’t entirely sure wasn’t his enemy, felt irreverent in the face of what just took place with the kid.

His head made an aborted turn before he stopped at the last second. Cara was standing directly behind him so at most she could see his ear and maybe the beginnings of a cheek, and even that much made Din feel like he was standing completely naked in the middle of the bridge. 

He felt something hard nudge against his elbow.

“Here,” Cara said softly, pushing his helmet against his arm, “take it. My eyes are closed. We could only see your hair the whole time.”

Din’s own eyes slipped closed as a rush of affectionate gratitude went through him at Cara’s words. Some days he was still amazed he’d managed to find a friend like her living the life that he did.

He reached behind him to grab the beskar, quickly placing it on his head, suddenly overcome with the urge to hide away under it like a little boy hiding under the bed after a nightmare. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, finally turning away from the elevator door at the end of the hallway.

Cara opened her eyes at the sound of his modulated voice and looked him over with concern clear on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind for today.”

“No… no I suppose not.”

She shifted, hand lifting like maybe she was going to touch his arm before dropping back to her side.

“You know, I gotta say…” Cara huffed a laugh, “of all the ways I expected today to end I did _not_ expect to be saved by Luke Skywalker.”

Din snapped his gaze back to hers. “ _What?”_

Cara raised her eyebrows at him in shock. “Um… Luke Skywalker? Rebellion poster child? Darling of the New Republic?”

Din just stared at her, head tilting to the side.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Cara asked incredulously. “What, have you been living under a rock the last 8 years?”

Stupidly, his mind thinks of the concrete tunnels of Nevarro.

“...yes?”

Cara looked at him searchingly for a minute before sighing and nodding her head.

“General Skywalker, he fought in the rebellion. Blew up the Death Star. Both of ‘em, I heard. Killed Lord Vader and Emperor Palpatine.”

“Oh,” Din said, feeling slightly stupid. His mind felt like it was working at half rate. “I have heard of him. I didn’t realize that was him.”

Cara nodded again, still looking at him like she was trying to decide if he was going to break down or not.

“Yeah. Didn’t know he was a Jedi, though. I suppose that explains a lot.”

Din nodded, turning slightly to glance back at the elevator doors once again. 

“Then he will be able to protect Grogu.”

He means it to be a statement of fact but it comes out more like a question, so quiet and so fragile. Cara’s eyes soften and her lips turn up in a sad smile.

“Yeah, he can.” Cara nods. “The kid’s probably in the safest place in the Galaxy, honestly.”

Din nods, trying to ignore the sting that flashes on his soul at her words.

_Safer than when he was with you._

That wasn’t what Cara meant, obviously, and she would punch Din flat out if he even insinuated it out loud in her presence, but he couldn’t help but think it.

After everything they had been through, everything Din had done to keep Grogu safe - exposing his covert, breaking his creed, fighting the kriffing Empire, running and fighting and making deals and risking everything over and over and _over -_ and it still wasn’t good enough. Gideon was right; if the Jedi hadn’t arrived when he did, everyone in this room would be dead except for the Moff and the child, and who knew what would have happened to Grogu after Din was gone.

Din had always tried his best, of course, but living the life he did was always going to come with high risks and dangerous situations. _Traveling around with me… that’s no life for a kid._ He’d done what needed to be done to keep the kid safe. Fighting the Guild, hiding from bounty hunters, even working with Ran and his old crew again. But there were still days where Din and Grogu had gone too long without eating, despite Din’s best efforts. Still days when he’d had to leave the kid behind, leave the kid with someone else with the hope that Din would make it back for him alive. 

_Maybe this is for the best._

He thought of the fear he’d felt when he saw the Dark Troopers descending from the skies onto Grogu and the seeing stone, the way it had crashed through him like lightning, so powerful it took his breath away. Din had never felt a fear that deep, that profound before in his life. The helplessness he’d felt watching Grogu stare down at him as he was lifted away, Din grounded and unable to do _anything_ to stop it, was so overwhelming he’d nearly shut down right then and there. The breakdown he’d had in the cargo hold of the _Slave I_ as it took off for Nevarro, crying and almost hyperventilating so hard he nearly threw up in his helmet, did nothing to quell the feeling.

Din had barely gotten any sleep since boarding the _Slave I_ on Tython, catching an hour or two of cat naps on the way to Nevarro and then again on the way to pick up Mayfeld. But even then the sleep was troubled and broken, filled with tiny green clawed fingers reaching toward him, of little, gentle coos, and terrified brown eyes staring down at him as they were carried away by droids. In his dreams, the Dark Troopers were replaced with the Seperatist Battle Droids of the Clone Wars, come once again to rip apart what little family Din had managed to find for himself. He didn’t remember sleeping at all from the time he’d sent that message to Gideon up to now. Once they’d gotten the coordinates to Gideon’s light cruiser his mind had been filled with nothing except _go, go, go, get Pershing, get Bo-Katan, get Grogu._ He’d boarded that ship with no thoughts or intentions besides rescuing Grogu, the memories of the kid strapped unconscious to a table in Nevarro playing on a loop in his mind. His only priority for five days had been getting his kid back. Of course, he never pictured that this was how it was going to play out.

Somehow he was walking out of this ship with a title he didn’t care for and without the one thing in the entire Galaxy he really wanted.

_Soon he will be back with me._

Yeah, right. Nice one, Din.

 _The Jedi said I could see him again,_ Din had to remind himself. _This isn’t forever._

He was pulled from his self pity by a new presence beside him, and he turned his head to look at Fennec, her face impassive but eyes bright with sympathy.

“I called Boba, he’s on his way back,” Fennec said quietly, glancing behind her at the two Mandalorians whispering frantically to each other at the command center console.

“Are you okay?”

Din honestly didn’t know the answer to that question, feeling more out of sorts than he had in years with a pounding headache growing behind his eyes, so he simply shrugged a shoulder and gave a noncommittal jerk of his head.

Fennec seemed to understand as she nodded and touched her hand to his vambrace briefly before pulling back and standing guard over the room.

He turned back to the room and began walking toward the center console when he saw what was no doubt the source of Bo-Katan’s frustration on the ground next to where he had jumped in front of Grogu to protect him from Gideon’s blaster.

The Darksaber.

Leaning down to pick it up, he had to fight back a shudder at the wave of cold that shot through his hand, up his arm, and into his body.

The hilt was made of pure beskar, rectangular and shining where it wasn’t painted black. It was surprisingly weightless in his hand, though he remembered it being the same even with the blade ignited.

He hadn’t thought much about it when he’d picked it up after his fight with Gideon. His attention had been focused solely on getting Grogu out of his tiny cuffs and into his arms, and then getting Gideon to Bo-Katan that he hadn’t paid the weapon any attention. But holding it now, finger running over the activator, the weapon felt almost like it was vibrating in his hand. If he didn’t know any better he might’ve said the weapon even felt… alive.

He tried to ignore the way it felt like it fit perfectly into his palm. Tried to ignore the way his skin tingled with the mute vibrations, the way he felt like something inside of him was clicking, sliding into place. The way the blade just felt… _right_ in his hand.

Like it _belonged_ there.

Din shook his head to get rid of the thought, to get rid of that bizarre feeling. He didn’t want this sword. He didn’t want the duty, the history, the legend that came with it. He turned to set the Darksaber down gently on the command console and he took a few steps back.

He was just turning back to Fennec to ask an ETA on Boba when—

“‘ _Help me rescue the child and you can have whatever you want,’”_ Bo-Katan’s voice rang out suddenly, tone mocking as she threw his own words back into his face. “‘ _He is my only priority_?”

He had to fight the urge to flinch back at the low blow, the choice he made with Grogu still too fresh on his emotions to be mocked for it by another who would never understand. He ignored the slight for now, frustration sparking within him as he turned to face the woman.

“Look, I already told you you can take the weapon, okay?” Din was so exhausted, his body was like one giant bruise, and this was not what he wanted to deal with right now. “I don’t want it.”

Bo-Karan scoffed.

“I told you, _di’kut_ , I can’t just _take it._ ”

“You know, maybe if you had explained to me what the Darksaber was and what it meant, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Din bit out, hands clenching at his sides. He was getting tired of her entitlement.

“You are Mandalorian,” Bo-Katan snapped, pulling her helmet off, “I shouldn’t have to explain the significance of something so important to our people.”

“But I was raised in a _cult,_ remember?” He mocked. “I thought I knew _nothing_.”

“You _knew_ that I told you to leave Gideon for me-” 

“He tried to _kill_ me. What the hell was I supposed to do, let him?

“Maybe--”

Din scoffed disbelievingly. “You’re insane.”

Bo-Katan’s hand twitched on her blaster and she took a step forward, her eyes gleaming almost manically.

“Maybe this is what you intended. How do I know you and that _clone_ weren’t planning to betray me all along? I mean, you’re both criminals, how do I know this wasn’t your plan the whole--”

“I was literally _begging you_ to take the fucking thing! I don’t _want_ the Darksaber,” Din growled, walking forward slowly, “I don’t _want_ to be Mand’alor. _I do not care_ to be the one to reunite Mandalorians or try to take back and redeem a dead planet. I’ve never even _been_ to Mandalore.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” Bo-Katan hissed back, standing her ground as he moved closer. He saw Koska shift beside Bo-Katan, hand on her blaster. “You are Mandalorian, you wear the _beskar'gam_ and you follow the _Resol'nare,_ you should want what is best for our people—“

“And that’s you, is it?” He mocked, voice softening against his building rage. “Are you what is best? You couldn’t even keep the Darksaber out of Imperial hands the last time you had it.”

He heard someone suck in a breath behind him and watched in satisfaction as Bo-Katan’s face dropped and her eyes flashed with rage. 

Distantly, Din wondered what the hell he was doing. Maybe he was just trying to goad Bo-Katan, trying to get her to attack him so she could take this stupid weapon and all the troubles that came with it away from him.

“You mock me and spit in the face of my traditions while refusing to budge or bow down to your own. You look down on a Mandalorian like Boba Fett simply because he is a clone. Yet you speak of _unity_ and _cooperation_ and _honor._ How do you expect to lead or unite Mandalorians if you cannot even look past your prejudices about my tribe, let alone dozens of others who may disagree with you? Or do you only plan to reunite those Mandalorians that agree with your own agenda and damn the rest?”

Bo-Katan scoffed, but held a steady gaze on his t-visor and lifted her chin slightly at him defiantly.

Din wasn’t sure where these thoughts were coming from. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly speaking like he cared about the type of leader Bo-Katan would be, wasn’t sure why he abruptly felt this wave of indignant passion on behalf of all Mandalorians, but he felt it rush through him like a gust of air. He didn’t fight it. Suddenly the room seemed heavier, the air thicker as a tension blanketed over everyone inside it and Din swore he felt that _thing_ inside of him spark again. The air around him felt like it was humming and he felt his anger start to ebb, pulling back like a wave from the shore, and a sudden sense of aplomb took its place.

“If you aren’t going to take the Darksaber from me, then challenge me for it,” Din said. 

He ignored the fact that he hadn’t trained with a sword since he was a teenager, let alone a weapon such as the Darksaber. He ignored the aches and pains that existed already in his skin and his bones, tired and bruised and battered from fighting off Gideon and the Dark Trooper. He focused only on the hum he felt inside him, unlike anything he’d felt before, but he embraced it.

He took a step forward.

Bo-Katan jerked suddenly, her face paling and her eyes flickering down to his side before looking up searching Din’s helmet with wide eyes. Someone made a noise behind him again.

“You—“

“If you want it so badly, then challenge me for it,” he repeated, voice calm even as he stepped threateningly closer to Bo-Katan, now barely a foot apart. “If it's a trial by combat you need, then let’s do it. You were so desperate for it back; here is your chance. Otherwise it looks like we’re both walking away with what we don’t want.”

Bo-Katan stared at the face of his helmet with wide eyes, defiance suddenly gone and replaced with… something. Shock? Fear? Alarm?

She seemed almost… _unnerved_.

Her eyes flickered down and to the side once more, her posture stiff as he stood over her. He followed her gaze and nearly jerked back in shock himself.

In his hand, ignited and glowing inky black, was the Darksaber.

He stared at it confused. He remembered setting it down on the console after putting his helmet back on, but he must have picked it up again while arguing with Bo-Katan, distracted as he was by his anger.

He pressed the activator on the side to power it down and lowered his hand. Whatever emotion had taken over him before, whatever defiance he had felt, was gone from him in a flash and suddenly he just felt more exhausted. Whatever tension had taken over the room before faded, leaving the air around them feeling oddly stale and empty.

When he looked back up at Bo-Katan her face was blank once more, but her eyes were calculating.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” She finally said, voice softer than it had been since they landed on the cruiser.

Din sighed. “No.”

She nodded and sighed herself, taking a step back and looking him up and down like he was a strange puzzle for her to figure out.

“Take time to rest, recuperate, and learn how to properly wield the Darksaber,” she said finally. There was an odd gleam to her eye that he didn’t have the energy or the care to figure out. “Once you feel you’re ready, find me and I will challenge you. I want it to be a fair fight, otherwise it means nothing.”

Din stared.

“Is that really necessar--”

“If you want to get rid of it so badly, these are my terms,” Bo-Katan said, gazing at the saber hilt in his hand.

“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly, clipping saber to his belt.

“As per our agreement, I am keeping the light cruiser,” Bo-Katan continued, her voice taking back up her usual authoritative tone, “I want you to leave, and I do not want to see you again until you are ready for me to challenge you.”

“And Gideon?” Din asked, glancing over to where the Moff was still unconscious on the floor.

“He is of no use to me now,” Bo-Katan said, eyes never leaving Din’s visor. “He no longer possesses the Darksaber. You can take him. Give him to the New Republic so he may answer for his crimes.”

“Yeah, I didn’t need your permission,” Cara sneered, hefting her gun onto her shoulder.

Bo-Katan rolled her eyes before giving one last longing look toward the Darksaber hilt and turning back to Koska behind her, already messing with some of the ship's controls.

“As soon as Fett lands, I want you gone.”

“No problem,” Fennec’s voice rang out across the room, “he’s here now.”

Din stared at Bo-Katan’s back for a moment longer, but it seemed the other Mandalorian was done dealing with him. He turned to Cara and jerked his head towards the door, the woman nodding back before shouldering her gun and leaning down to heft Gideon over her shoulder, both falling into step and they walked toward Fennec and the elevator.

~

“Where’s the kid?” Boba asked as soon as they entered the launch bay.

“There was an unexpected turn of events.”

Boba hummed, looking critically at Din before nodding to the crushed and destroyed Dark Trooper carcasses laying on the ground around them.

“Jedi found you, did they?”

Din jerked back in surprise. 

“How did you—“

“I’ve seen a few Jedi in my lifetime,” Boba said lightly, kicking the foot of one of the Dark Troopers crumpled beside him, “enough to recognize the results of the Force and a lightsaber when I see it.”

Din nodded. 

“Yes. A Jedi named Luke Skywalker—“

Boba’s head snapped up to Din’s so quickly Din thought he heard the man’s neck crack.

“Skywalker?”

“Yes… you know him?”

Boba stared blankly for a moment, body frozen and face completely unreadable.

“We’ve met.”

Fennec snorted and moved around the two to walk into the ship, Cara following behind. Neither seemed to care when Gideon’s head bounced off the side of the hull as they walked up the ramp.

“Right…” Din said uncertainty, hands fidgeting uselessly beside him, “well, Skywalker came and destroyed the droids, then took Grogu to train him.”

“You just handed your child over to a Jedi?”

“He… is one of their kind,” Din said slowly, feeling defensive. “I was tasked with returning the child to the Jedi, and I did so.”

Boba just hummed noncommittally before turning to walk back into the ship, gesturing for Din to follow him.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“It is not how I expected the rescue mission to go—“ Boba snorted “—but… Grogu is safe, and that is what matters.”

Boba hummed again, stopping before the cockpit entrance to turn back to Din again.

“Still,” he said softly, eyes sympathetic as they searched Din’s visor, “I am sorry for your loss. I know he meant a lot to you.”

“It is for the best,” Din said, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Boba so much as convince himself. “Besides… the Jedi said he would not keep Grogu from me forever. He promised I would see him again.”

“He did, did he?” Boba’s face gave away nothing. “How very un-Jedi of him.”

“What do you mean?”

Boba sighed.

“I was just a boy when the Jedi Purge happened but… I remember the stories. That Jedi would take children from families, never to see them again. It is one of the reasons Mandalorians were so against the Jedi. I remember my father ranting about it once before he was killed by them.”

Din felt his adrenaline spike, cold panic rushing through him. Had he made a mistake? Should he have refused to let Grogu go? Should he have agreed to go with them when the Jedi offered? Why would the Jedi offer if he wasn’t allowed to see the child again? _Kriff_ , he hadn’t even given the Jedi his name or any way of getting in contact with him-

“Maybe Skywalker is doing it differently though,” Fennec called out, clearly sensing the panic hidden behind Din’s silence. “Like you said, the Jedi are dead. Maybe he makes his own rules.”

“Maybe,” Boba allowed with an acknowledging tilt of his head. “He was always hanging around that sister of his, during the war. I doubt the Jedi would have approved of that before.”

Din nodded, trying to push down his fear. The Jedi had said he wouldn’t keep him from Grogu forever, that their… their bond was too strong for that. Din had believed him, trusted him when he looked into his bright blue eyes and saw nothing but earnest reassurance that had instantly calmed him.

Din really hoped he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life trusting the Jedi. Though there was something about the man… something that made Din feel, instinctually, that he could be trusted. The Jedi had felt… safe.

“Well, I see you got Gideon at least,” Boba nodded over to where Cara had dumped Gideon’s body unceremoniously into one of the prisoner cages. “Did the princess get what she wanted?”

“Ahh… not quite,” Din said sheepishly, lifting a hand to point to where the Darksaber hung from his utility belt.

Boba stared at it wide eyed for a few seconds before bursting into loud, guffawing laughter. He was nearly bent over at the waist he was laughing so hard.

“Oh Maker,” Boba wheezed, reaching up to wipe tears from his eyes, mouth pulled taunt in a smile. Din had never seen so much emotion from the man at once. Even Fennec looked slightly unnerved.

“Oh-- oh I wish I could have seen her _face_ , fuck-”

“It was a sight for sure,” Cara smirked, situating herself into a seat near where Gideon was lying prone on the ground. “I thought she was gonna kill him before he pulled the damn thing on her himself.”

“Oh-- you… wait,” Boba put a hand on his stomach and tried to calm his breathing, smile still large on his face, “if you have it that means-”

“I did not know what it meant when I picked it up,” Din grumbled, already getting tired of having to explain the thing, “I was just trying to keep Gideon from cutting my head off.”

“Mand’alor Din Djarin,” Boba chuckled, clapping Din on the shoulder, “You know, that actually has a nice ring to it.”

“Fun as all this is,” Fennec drawled from her seat looking bored, “don’t we have a Moff to take care of?”

“Right,” Boba said, taking a deep breath before jerking his head toward the cockpit behind him. “Come on, _Mand’alor._ You’re copilot. Let’s get off this imperial shithole.”

It wasn’t until much later when the ship was deep in hyperdrive, on their way to whatever New Republic base Cara had given them coordinates for, that Boba spoke again.

“So, _your highness,”_ Boba smirked, looking entirely too amused as he turned to look at Din, “what are you going to do now?”

_What are you going to do now?_

And wasn’t that the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> Ad'ika - little one, son, daughter, of any age  
> di'kut - idiot  
> beskar'gam - armor, literally "iron skin"  
> Resol'nare - Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life  
> Mand'alor - sole ruler
> 
> Next update might be wonky. Trying to balance work, graduate school, and an internship is hard and I got a paper due next week so you guys will either get one long chapter late or two short chapters in one week. Depends on how much of it I finish before next weekend lmao
> 
> Next up: Din and Luke reunited! I cannot keep them apart for long lol


	4. how are you still holding on?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was amazing how so much could change so drastically, yet some things still remained the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll, I swear I have never done this much research for a fic in my life. And even then I'm 100% sure there are things that I still got wrong but at this point I don't even care anymore. I spent way to long trying to figure out the timeline of all this Mandalore shit. I've never even seen Rebels. I'm cherry picking what I want from canon and the EU and no one can stop me.
> 
> So fun story: in my mind when I wrote the outline of this fic, this chapter and the next two chapters were all supposed to be ONE chapter. But then I greatly underestimated my ability to write filler and I was approaching 5,000 words and they hadn't even left the damn planet yet so I decided to cut it in half ~again~
> 
> Anyway, we're getting into the meat of the story now, so I hope you all enjoy! The next chapter will be up as soon as I'm done with it!
> 
> Chapter title from One Day by Kodaline

Din had a scar above his right eye.

It wasn’t too big. Maybe three inches long at most. But it cut through his eyebrow at the arch, leaving a space where the hair refused to grow back. The scar didn’t cover his whole eye, stopping just before whatever cut had been there reached his eyeball. But it was there and he knew it was a scar that hadn’t been there for long.

He couldn’t remember exactly when he'd gotten it. Couldn’t think of what had caused the injury, or who. But to Din, it felt like a symbol. A mark reminding him of the man he’d become. Of how much things had changed.

He thought back over the wild ride that had been his life the last few months. His mind flashed to Ahsoka, laughing as she swiped at him with her lightsabers and he jumped back to avoid them, Darksaber held unevenly in his hand. Boba, grabbing him in a headlock and flipping him over his shoulder and onto the floor as they sparred, Fennec critiquing them in the background. Running through the sands of Enceri, swinging his saber down on stormtrooper after stormtrooper, Bo-Katan covering his flank with her double blasters. Ripping off his helmet and falling onto the floor of Bo-Katan’s ship as the ramp closed behind them, spitting out mouthfuls of blood as Koska knelt beside him, hands pressing down on her own bleeding wounds. Axe’s hands grabbing onto his elbow and pulling him up, pressing his beskar staff back into his hands after he’d thrown it too far at a battle droid, and pushing him back towards the chaos.

The scar was small and seemingly unimportant, but to Din it represented so much more. It was a mark of just how much his life had taken a turn in ways he had never expected. To Din the scar was a symbol that represented the new life, the new role, he had taken on in the last year and a half.

It was a role he’d never intended to take. Even now, months after winning the Darksaber, after training to learn to weild it with Ahsoka, after using it in battle to fight imps on Mandalore, he still didn’t think it belonged to him. Sometimes he felt he was an imposter, a phony pretending to be the Mand’alor while he waited for someone else to come and take up the mantle. He felt undeserving of all the thanks and the gratitude every Mandalorian they’d found and brought back to their city bestowed upon him. Sitting with Koska, Bo-Katan, Axe, and Boba, making plans for what to do next, what clan to reach out to, what distress signal to heed, what imperial faction to target next, none of it felt real.

Even if the Darksaber felt so comfortable in his hands. Even if he now felt naked, exposed, like a part of him was missing if he didn’t have the Darksaber on his belt at all times. Even if the blade now felt less like a weapon and more like an extension of his arm, a part of himself as much as any piece of his beskar armor. Every time he ignited the blade, he felt that  _ something  _ inside of him that he’d felt of Gideon’s ship slip back into place, clicking like the final piece of a puzzle he never even knew was missing. He didn’t understand it, refused to look too deeply into it, unwilling to face the possible ramifications.

(He remembered mentioning it, just once, to Ahsoka in their final days of training, but she said nothing in return, had just smirked at him. Kriffing Jedi.)

Yet still, he didn’t want to accept the blade as his. Because accepting the blade as his meant accepting everything that came along with it. And even though he had taken the title of Mand’alor, allowed others to call him by that name, allowed other Mandalorians to rally and follow him under the name, there was still a part of him hoping another Mandalorian would come along and challenge him for it. He still didn’t  _ want  _ it. 

He wanted an old, rickety silver ship, with its busted hyperdrive and its large cockpit windows that showed the full expanse of space and the stars held within. He wanted the tiny sleeping quarters where the hammock was strung across, tiny green clawed fingers reaching down for him in the night; soft coos and whistling snores under his chin as a tiny back rose and fell against his hand as it slept against his chest.

Of course, he couldn’t have either of those things. The Razor Crest was long gone, nothing but dust on the ground of Tython for months, and Grogu was still with the Jedi. Even though he hadn’t seen or spoken to the child since he left the cruiser with Skywalker, Din still thought of his  _ ad’ika  _ every day. Wondered how his training was going, if his powers were growing stronger. Wondered if the kid was getting enough to eat, if he still liked to eat those little blue cookies or if he’d found a new favorite snack. Wondered if he was somewhere with lots of frogs around for the kid to terrorize. Wondered if he slept enough at night, if he was safe, if he was  _ happy— _

Most nights he sat and wondered if Grogu thought about him as much as he did the child. If he remembered Din Djarin or the Mandalorian, maybe something in between or maybe nothing at all. During the day Din would go through the motions, nodding when Bo-Katan spoke, waving to foundlings as he walked through the city, talking to the Mandalorians working in the mines, and generally doing the duties expected of him as  _ Mand’alor.  _

But at night when he was alone, he’d take off his helmet and sit in his room, staring out at the night sky up into the multitude of stars and planets above, silver ball held in his hand. He’d think of big, dark, brown eyes, floppy green ears on a wrinkly little head, tiny mouth pulled into a smile as he ran toward Din with his hands out begging to be picked up. At night he’d lie in bed and try to ignore the part of his chest that felt empty, missing, trying to live the life of an imposter, as just one half of a clan of two. 

It was amazing how so much could change so drastically, yet some things still remained the same.

He was pulled from his musing by a knock at the door, and he fumbled with his helmet for a moment before lifting and placing it carefully on his head.

“Enter.”

The door opened and a smirking Axe walked into the room, black curls falling into his eyes and clutching a wooden box in his hands.

“ _ Su cuy’gar, Mand’alor.” _

Din felt a grin twitching involuntarily at his lips.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Din?”

“Always once more, apparently,” Axe smiled, teasing glint in his eyes. Din rolled his eyes under his helmet. 

Din’s friendship with Axe had been an unexpected one, but one that he had appreciated more than he could explain the last few months since his near duel with Bo-Katan. They had been standoffish at first - Axe because he was loyal to Bo-Katan and her mission to win the Darksaber from Gideon and win back Mandalore (where Axe had been born during the Clone Wars), and Din because he still wasn’t entirely sure he could trust Bo-Katan and her Nite Owls not to attack him on sight.

Once the mess with the Darksaber had been dealt with and Din had made his deal with Bo-Katan, Axe had been distrusting and unafraid to voice his opinions of Din as Mand’alor. He’d refused to use his name, sneering and referring to him only as Mand’alor mockingly, hissed out in obvious sarcasm and disdain. It was irritating and frustrated Din to no end, especially since keeping the Darksaber had been  _ Bo-Katan’s idea _ , not his. He hadn’t been afraid to talk back, reminding Axe that he hadn’t wanted the Darksaber in the first place and if Axe had any issues, he could take it up with Bo-Katan. But as time went on, as they worked together, fought together, saved each other’s necks in battle more times than they could count, feelings and views had changed. 

Though Axe had still referred to Din only as Mand’alor, it went from being said in contempt to being said in jest, friendly teasing between brothers in arms. Eventually Din began seeking Axe’s company, more comfortable around him than he had been around Bo-Katan and Koska, who, at the time, still seemed distant and cold, detached from him apart from when they needed his help in battle. Axe would sit with Din by the campfire, telling stories of what Mandalore was like when he was a child growing up in Ronion before everything changed with the siege, when trade routes died out and food shortages ravaged the city. He shared what it was like later, living on Mandalore during the Imperial occupation, fighting underground against the Empire, and how he met Bo-Katan as the few remaining Mandalorians were forced to flee when the Purge began.

In return, Din told Axe about his time in the Fighting Corps and being rescued by Death Watch as a child. He shared what it was like trying and scrambling to escape, to survive during and after The Night of a Thousand Tears, him and a few others from the Corps being found and taken in by the Tribe, becoming what he now knew as Children of the Watch and hiding underground. He shared what he had been taught of The Way of the Mandalore, constantly hiding your face and name, only coming above ground one at a time when needed as a way of survival, a way of preventing more of their people from being murdered by the Empire. Eventually being chosen as the  _ beroya _ , joining the guild, the morally and legally questionable things he’d done in the name of providing for his covert and the foundlings.

Some nights, when the darkness in his own mind was so heavy even the stars above them couldn’t light the way out, he spoke of Grogu. His shame in handing the kid over to the imps, and how attached to the kid he had become without even realizing it was happening. Axe would nod, not trying to offer useless platitudes but holding sympathy clear in his eyes as he thought of the tiny green child he’d once met and helped save. He was a good friend and an ally that Din had not expected to gain in the turn that his life had taken since he’d given Grogu up, but Din appreciated him more than he could explain.

“I come bearing gifts.”

Din tilted his helmet down to look at the wooden box held in Axes gloved hands.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

Axe laughed.

“Sorry, Mand’alor,” Axe said, placing the box on the table by the mirror, “but your advisors have spoken.”

Din bit his tongue to hold back the childish groan at the back of his throat, reaching up to his neck to detach and unclasp his black cape from around his shoulders.

“This is ridiculous,” Din did  _ not  _ whine as Axe opened the box and pulled a thick, rich red cloak from within.

“Maybe,” Axe said, stepping around behind Din to lift the cloak up and clasp and tie it into place, “but Boba insisted and Bo-Katan agreed, if you can believe it.”

“Bo-Katan  _ agreed  _ with Fett? Did Mustafar freeze over?”

Axe laughed, brushing non-existent dust off of Din’s cloak before lifting it and shaking it out, laying it down so that it fanned out behind Din.

“I don’t know, he might’ve had a point,” Axe said, looking appreciatively at Din in the mirror over his shoulder, “you look good, Mand’alor. Very kingly.”

Din turned and looked at himself in the mirror critically.

In the months since Din and the others had managed to reclaim Enceri, there had been a big change to his armor. No longer unpainted beskar silver, his armor was now a darker, almost black, gun-metal grey with golden accents painted on at Boba, Bo-Katan, and Axe’s insistence. The rims of his pauldrons and thigh guards were painted a shining gold, his chest plate and vambraces completely covered by the golden paint. The lining of the t-visor was painted similarly, providing a striking contrast to the blackish grey of the rest of his helmet. Everywhere else where there was once silver was that same gun-metal color, not quite black - it still shone in the light, but it made him look more mysterious, more intense. On his right shoulder, a gleaming contrast against the darker metal, was a gold Mudhorn signet, which had become not just the symbol of his clan, but also his rule as Mand’alor.

And now adding to that image was a thick, blood red cape that framed him elegantly, wrapped around his neck and thrown across his shoulder. It was longer than his black cape, falling all the way down to the floor and even training along the ground a few inches. Axe had spread it so that it fanned out slightly behind him, framing his armor and contrasting it in a way that Din had to admit was slightly impressive.

“I feel ridiculous,” Din repeated, meeting Axe’s gaze through his helmet in the mirror.

“Maybe a little, by Mandalorian standards,” Axe conceded, “that cape isn’t exactly practical, especially if you tried to fight in it, but it certainly presents an image. The New Republic will be impressed, no doubt.”

Din scoffed, but said nothing.

“Are you nervous?”

“I’d rather fight Moff Gideon again.”

Axe laughed, walking away from the mirror and over to the other side of DIn’s room where his weapons stores were. He pressed the button to open the doors and reached inside to pull out Din’s beskar spear - now painted a bright gold - and his blaster. On his way back to the mirror he lingered for a moment by the bed, glancing down at the Darksaber resting where Din had tossed it before glancing back to Din. Din met his gaze in the mirror and jerked his head slightly, and Axe picked up the Darksaber as well.

He gingerly handed the Darksaber to Din, fingers releasing it quickly as though afraid the weapon would bite him. Once the Darksaber was hung from Din’s belt, he watched as Din slid his blaster into its holster before handing over the spear.

Din looked at himself in the mirror, with his gold armor and spear, billowing cape, darksaber on his hip, and felt like he didn’t even recognize himself.

Axe walked around in front of him and looked him up and down with knowing eyes.

“You look good,” Axe said softly, his eyes full of sympathy. The corners of his mouth twitched as amusement flashed across his face. “If I didn’t already know you I might actually be intimidated.” 

Din just shook his head and swung his spear at Axe’s armored shoulder as Axe ducked away with a chuckle.

~

“There he is,” Boba crowed as Din swept into the room, cape billowing dramatically behind him. “Mand’alor the... Avenger!”

“That is  _ not  _ the one we are going with,” Din called back.

“We need to start spreading something. With how your reputation has been growing, soon a title is going to be picked for you and I can guarantee you won’t like it.”

“I know, just….” Din sighed, “not that one.”

“Maybe we should call him Mand’alor the Buzzkill?” Cara called from next to the holotable across the room. Kosha laughed and held out her hand for a fist bump, which Cara obliged.

Din turned his helmet to glare at them, which just made them laugh harder.

“Is this really necessary?” Din asked Boba, holding the edge of the cape up and away from him like it had personally offended him.

“Yes,” Boba said, rolling his eyes and walking toward Din.

“I look like an idiot!”

“You look like a king!” Boba argued back. “I know you don’t like to single yourself out or acknowledge that you have any kind of power or significance at all, but I don’t care what you want. If you are meeting with the New Republic then you need to present an image. We need to look strong, powerful. You are the  _ Mand’alor,  _ so you need to look like it.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, he’s right,” Bo-Katan said as she walked in. She glared over at Boba before turning to stop in front of Din.

“Mandalorians may not care much for opulence, but the New Republic will expect a certain image and presentation from the leader of a people. We don’t want them to underestimate us, so we have to put up a strong front from the beginning. Image is important in politics.”

“I hate politics,” Din groused, “I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

“I know,” Bo-Katan smirked, and Din wished she could see the searing glare he was leveling them all with. 

He knew he sounded like a petulant child at this point, but he really didn’t see the point of all the grandeur. He was just a man,  _ sole ruler _ or not. Carrying a lightsaber didn’t make him any more important than any other Mandalorian.

“You chose us as advisors and we are just trying to do our job,” Boba pointed out as he glared at Bo-Katan. “So let us advise you. A little paint job, a new cloak - it could be much worse.”

“Maybe we should get you a throne,” Fennec smirked from her chair next to Cara and Koska at the holotable.

“That’s an idea,” Axe smirked from beside Din. Din glared at him too, but Axe just kept smirking. Karking helmet really ruined the effect.

“I already have a throne.”

“This?” Cara asked skeptically, pointing to the chair to her right. “Din, that’s not a throne. That’s just a chair that happens to be at the head of the strat table.”

Din shrugged, feeling exhausted already and they hadn’t even left for Coruscant yet.

“Look,” Bo-Katan sighed. She looked just as exhausted as Din felt and somehow that lifted Din’s spirits slightly. “Let’s just get through this trip and then when we return you can take it off and hide it in the bottom of a trunk somewhere.”

Din hummed.

“Can I burn it?”

“No,” Bo-Katan and Boba both said, glancing at each other uncomfortably.

“You’ll need it for other meetings with the Republic later on,” Bo-Katan explained as she waved Koska over to her. “Other than that you don’t have to wear it.”

Koska walked over to them, helmet back on her head and hand resting on her blaster at her hip. Next to him, Axe pulled his own helmet on and pulled his rifle to stand at attention. Din’s eyes traced the white painted Mudhorn sitting atop their pauldrons and wondered for the millionth time how this had become his life.

Brown eyes and a soft coo swam through his mind and he swallowed, turning away from them.

“Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

~

The city of Enceri was one of the smaller cities on Mandalore. The mining town had been abandoned when they found it, old, disenfranchised Imperial remnants using the city and the mines as a hideaway for survival after the end of the war. Din, Boba, Bo-Katan, Axe, Koska, Fennec, Ahsoka, and Cara had been able to handle clearing out the decommissioned stormtroopers easily enough, their battered and dirtied armor and weapons indicating that they didn’t have much in the way of survival to begin with.

Once the imps had been cleared out it had been a struggle to fix up the buildings and reestablish the city within, the small mining town having already been abandoned long before the Purge. It had taken a few months, but somehow they had managed to get a base of operations going. Eventually they were able to find other Mandalorians, hiding on other planets and in other systems in the Outer Rin and Unknown Regions, following rumors and distress signals in broken Mando’a.

They had a small establishment now, a few Mandalorians of different adherence to the Creed - some like Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls, comfortably taking off their helmets when they pleased, some like Din, only removing their helmets in front of their own families. To Din, so long as they walked the Way of the Mandalore, followed the  _ Resol'nare,  _ and were able to live without bloodshed among the other Clans, he did not really care how others chose to interpret Creed. And everyone who lived there had to accept that as well. There were too few of their people left to live in petty squabbles over what was and wasn’t Mandalorian. The few they were able to find so far had readily agreed, most just glad to finally have somewhere they could be safe, somewhere they could call home and be around other followers of The Way.

There were a couple challenges for the Darksaber, for the title of Mand’alor - a few too stubborn to simply bend to Din’s rule without making him prove himself, and Din honored them all - though none had been able to defeat him in battle.

Overall, he had the respect and the trust of the Mandalorians within Enceri, many expressing gratefulness to him for taking up the mantle and helping to unite their people once more. Din always nodded and accepted their thanks, even if their words made something heavy and guilty churn in the bottom of his stomach at the knowledge that he hadn’t wanted to do any of this. That even though he had resigned himself to this fate for now, a small, guilty part of him was still waiting for the day a challenger finally beat him in combat and took the title.

The walk from their base to the ship outside of the biodome was blissfully quick. It was still early in the morning, just after breakfast, so many people were just beginning their day. They passed a group of Mandalorians going through their training drills, the  _ ver’alor _ shouting as he ran them through their paces. He nodded to some  _ vod  _ on their way to start their work in the mines for the day. Halfway to the entrance, they passed a group of young foundlings sitting in the sand, listening to an older woman tell stories of Terre Vizsla, the first Mand’alor to wield the Darksaber. A young girl saw Din as he walked by, smiling brightly and waving excitedly at him. The rest of the foundlings were quickly distracted, and they all turned to smile, squeal, and wave at Din as he walked by. He smiled slightly behind his helmet, lifting a hand to wave back at them, grin blooming at their excited chitters at his acknowledgement.

As soon as he left the biodome and stepped into the harsh heat of the sun in the desert beyond, Din felt sweat break out along his neck, shoulders, and back. He  _ really  _ hated the cloak. 

The ship, a kom’rk-class fighter/transport, stood tall and gleaming in the bright light of the sun.

He glanced over to Boba, who had walked up beside him. 

“I expect the city to still be standing when I get back.”

“Don’t worry, Mand’alor,” Boba smiled as they walked over to his ship, “I’ll keep your city nice and safe for you.”

Bo-Katan huffed in disbelief, walking around them with Axe and Koska to ready the ship. Din stared at Boba calculatingly for a moment. 

“Somehow I don’t feel very reassured.”

“Oh, I’ll keep an eye on him for you, Mando,” Fennec said, her ever-present rifle swung up to rest on her shoulder.

“That… doesn’t help,” Din said slowly, gaze switching between the two. They both smiled innocently at him. “At all, actually.”

“Don’t worry, Din. I’ll watch them.”

Din turned to see Ahsoka making her way over to them from where her own small ship was parked. Her travel robes were on, sabers hung on her hips. She glanced at Boba with a raised brow before turning to smile at Din.

“I thought you were leaving?” Din asked quietly. “You said you... sensed something?”

“It can wait,” Ahsoka assured him as she walked around to stand with Fennec and Boba. “You’ll only be gone a few days. I’m okay with sticking around to make sure this one doesn’t try to steal your throne.”

“What throne?” Boba huffed. “I have my own throne. It’s much bigger. Way more impressive.”

Fennec rolled her eyes and Ahsoka’s smile grew bigger.

“Then I will ensure they don’t burn the city to the ground,” Ahsoka conceded.

That, at least, was somewhat reassuring.

“Djarin!” Bo-Katan leaned out the ramp call down to him. “Let’s go! We need to be in hyperspace five minutes ago!”

“Are you  _ sure  _ it’s  _ your  _ throne?” Boba teased.

Din just shook his head. He moved to turn and walk up the ramp to the ship when he felt a hand grab his arm. He turned to look back at the group behind him.

Boba and Fennec had walked off but Ahsoka was still behind him, hand around his vambrace. Her face was strangely blank and her eyes seemed unfocused for a moment before she looked into his visor, somehow managing to meet his eyes through the helmet as she always did.

“Be careful,” she said quietly, leaning into him slightly. “I have a strange feeling about this trip. Just remember to trust your instincts. If you know something to be true, let it guide you.”

Din held her gaze for a moment before nodding, Darksaber suddenly heavy on his belt.

~

_ He wasn’t sure where he was, the space around him dark with broken flashes of images appearing before just as quickly fading from view. _

_ He saw eyes, bright, blue eyes - like the bluest of skies or the clearest of lakes, it’s reflected surface making it impossible to tell where the land ended and the sky began. He could lose himself in that blue if he let himself. _

_ A flash and he saw green, wrinkly skin with white fuzzy hairs. Big floppy ears and tiny clawed hands reaching up, up, up, grasping and clenching the air, brown eyes squinting in concentration-- _

_ A flash and he saw red, fire burning, people screaming, bodies strewn across the ground, sand turning dark red, almost black with blood. He recognized the armor, made of beskar - but the helmet was gone, along with the head that housed it-- _

_ Screaming, shouting, words he couldn’t make out, cries for help that scratched at his soul and pulled the air from his lungs, but when he tried to move he couldn’t, pain erupting from all over his body, his arms, his legs, his chest, his head-- _

_ “DIN!” _

_ Whoever was screaming, Din didn’t recognize the voice. He couldn’t see anyone else around him. All he saw was red, fire tearing through his vision and burning his eyes until the bodies on the ground were gone and his vision burned so bright until all he could do was close his eyes against the light. _

_ “S-stop! Din! DIN!” _

“Din?”

He jumped as a hand found the soft space between his pauldron and elbow, squeezing the bicep slightly, gasping air into his lungs as he jerked awake.

“Woah, hey. You okay?”

Din opened his eyes and looked up, his visor catching on the concern clear on Koska’s face.

“What--”

“Bo-Katan said to tell you we’re dropping out of hyperspace in 5 minutes,” Koska said, still looking at him with cautious eyes.

“Right,” Din sighed, hands clenching in his lap. He closed his eyes and saw that bright light searing into his eyelids, and his eyes flew open again.

“Are you okay?” Koska asked again, hand dropping from his arm but still hovering close.

“Yes.” Din nodded slowly, trying to release the tension in his hands and arms and sit normally. “Just a… a weird dream, is all.”

Koska stared down at him for another moment, eyes searching before she nodded and started back to the cockpit.

“You should strap in, we’re going to start landing as soon as we drop.”

Din nodded again and waited until she had left the bridge before letting out the breath he’d been holding, slouching forward in his seat and resting his elbows on his knees. He tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking as he cradled his helmet between them. 

His skin was tingling beneath his armor as though it could still feel the lingering effects of the searing pain from his dream. It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamt of Grogu and the Jedi from the cruiser. It wasn’t even the first time he’d dreamt of the bright blinding light and the distant screams. Every time he dreamt it felt as though the dream was getting stronger, more intense. More real. 

The pain that had seeped through his body was new, and even now that he was awake, he thought he could still feel the ache of it pulse through his limbs. Visions of blood seeping into sand made him shiver in his seat.

_ It’s just a dream, _ he reminded himself.  _ It’s not real. It’s just your fear manifesting. _

He tried to breathe like Ahsoka had taught him, tried to take this time before walking into the proverbial lion’s den to center himself and push the image and the cold, creeping fear that accompanied it from his mind. Slowly, he felt the tension leave his body and his hands stopped shaking against his helmet.

Din could feel it the second they dropped out of hyperdrive, the stirrings of anticipation bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. It had been years since he’d been on Coruscant, and even then he hadn’t stayed for very long, not wanting to spend too much time in the heart of the Empire. He’d gotten the information he needed on his bounty and didn’t linger. The multiple levels, the crowded streets, the towering buildings, the flashing lights - he had no desire to spend time in such a place, surrounded by strangers who all looked to him in suspicion.

And now, to be invited to the city-planet as a diplomat, as a  _ king _ , was beyond strange. No longer would he have to worry about being stopped by stormtroopers for questioning. No longer would he have to worry about New Republic forces trying to arrest him. After living so long as a bounty hunter, coming to the Inner Core without having to constantly look over his shoulder was a change of pace he wasn’t sure he appreciated.

He had a feeling the people of Coruscant were still going to regard him with suspicion, with tense caution. King or no, new paint job and title notwithstanding, he was still a Mandalorian. Mandalorians still had a certain reputation amongst the galaxy that many feared.

The Empire hadn’t tried to eradicate their people for nothing.

It wasn’t long until he could feel the engines slowing, the ship leveling out as it landed. He unbuckled but stayed seated until Koska, Axe, and Bo-Katan exited the cockpit.

“They sent a welcoming committee,” Bo-Katan said as she pulled her helmet on. “Let’s get this over with.”

As they stood waiting for the ramp to lower, Din felt a strange flash of giddiness, happy excitement throughout his body. He let out an involuntary giggle before suddenly the feeling was gone and he was left with the same empty anticipation as before.

When he looked up he saw Bo-Katan, Axe, and Koska all looking at him behind their helmets.

“Sorry,” Din said quietly, looking away and fighting the embarrassed flush he could feel creeping up his neck. “I don’t… I don’t know where that came from.”

Bo-Katan continued to stare behind her visor before she sighed and started down the ramp. Axe gestured for him to follow after her while he and Koska took up the back, weapons pulled but not at attention, playing the part of his armed guard.

He blinked as the HUD on his helmet adjusted to the bright, artificial light of Coruscant that beamed down on their landing pad. He kept his posture straight, his head held high, golden spear clenched tight in his gloved fist. He could feel the cloak billowing out slightly behind him in the wind and wondered what a sight he must present with his guards behind him.

He stopped behind Bo-Katan once they reached the welcoming group. A woman in a white suit with a small white cape draped elegantly behind her, her brown hair wrapped around her head in elaborate braids. She was beautiful, but there was a hidden strength behind her, and Din knew that this was not a woman to be messed with. Next to her was a Mon Calamari in military dress, clearly an officer or general of some kind. And on her other side was a man in a black cloak, hood pulled up to cover his face, hands folded and hidden in the sleeves of his robes.

There was something about the man that tickled something in Din’s mind. He felt his eyes drawn to the man in black. He seemed familiar…

The woman in white stepped forward, hands clasped politely in front of her, a serene smile on her lips.

“Greetings and welcome to Coruscant,” she said, voice melodic but strong. Commanding of respect. “My name is Leia Organa, I am the New Republic Minister of State.”

“Minister Organa,” Bo-Katan nodded, still standing slightly in front of Din, “my name is Bo-Katan Kryze of Clan Kryze, I am one of the Mand’alors advisors and head of his security detail.”

Bo-Katan stepped aside, lifting a hand to gesture to Din behind her.

“May I introduce the Mand’alor.”

Din took a step forward, staff clanging slightly as he rested the end on the ground beside him.

“Minister Organa,” he said softly, nodding his helmet slightly, “thank you for your invitation. I look forward to finding some agreement with the New Republic.”

“Thank you, Mand’alor. We look forward to working with you and your people.”

She glanced behind her and gestured to the Mon Calamari and cloaked man forward.

“This is Admiral Ackbar,” she said, nodding to the Mon Calamari beside her, “he was an Admiral in the rebel army and now in charge of the New Republic’s forces.”

Ackbar nodded stiffly at him.

“And this,” she continued, turning to the cloaked man on her other side, “is Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker. He won’t be a part of our talks with the Senate, but he had Republic business on Coruscant during your visit and requested the opportunity to meet you.”

Din barely heard the rest of the minister’s sentence, his chest tightening and his limbs suddenly felt cold as the anticipation he’d been feeling since leaving hyperspace peaked. He stared in shock as the cloaked man raised his hands and slowly lowered the hood from his face.

Twinkling blue eyes met his gaze through the visor, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Welcome, Mand’alor,” the Jedi said. His wink at Din was so imperceptible Din almost missed it entirely. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk I just really like the idea of Ahsoka giving Din some minor ~jedi ~ training and him not even realizing that's what's happening lmao
> 
> Up next: me trying to bullshit my way through Star Wars politics... and more Luke!
> 
> Mando'a translations:  
> Su cuy’gar, Mand’alor - Hello! lit. "so you're still alive"  
> beroya - bounty hunter  
> Resol'nare - the six tenets of Mandalorian cultures


	5. and the vultures all start circling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you have something to say, _Admiral_ ,” Din said softly, sitting up straighter in his chair and meeting his gaze head on, “then say it.”
> 
> “What about you, Mand’alor,” Fey’lya cut in with a smirk, “you were a bounty hunter once, a well known one in the Outer Rim from what I hear. Do you have any… _dealings_ with the Empire?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy oh boy I'm nervous about this one kiddos
> 
> 2 things first so bear with me
> 
> first: I have updated the tags. There is now a minor character death tag. It doesn't happen in this chapter, but it is coming up soon and I will warn you at the beginning of the chapter before it happens. Also I added the graphic depictions of violence archive tag. Again, not for a while, but I put it up. Personally I don't think it's much worse than canon typical depictions of violence in Star Wars, but for some even that is a bit graphic so I thought I'd be safe. It's mostly going to come in later. There will be NO major character death in this fic, don't worry. 
> 
> second: please remember that I have still not seen Clone Wars or Rebels. I'm sitting here trying to write about events in shows I've never seen. I tried so hard, guys. I'm bullshitting my way through Star Wars politics. I was glued to wookiepedia. I double and triple checked stuff. I rewrote the Senate meeting 4 times over three weeks and I still don't like it. If anything is inaccurate just file it under creative licensing. This is where the "I don't know enough about star wars to write this" tag comes in but if college has taught me anything it's how to convincingly BS my way through things I don't know lmao
> 
> shout out to my friend avengersasssemble who beta read this chapter despite not knowing anything about Star Wars and who was very amused by Mon Calamari lol
> 
> Chapter title from Rise by Katy Perry

The first meeting with the New Republic Senate went about as well as Din expected it to. Which was to say, it went terribly.

It started out alright. Introductions were made and there were polite greetings and discussions that Din struggled to pay attention to. Questions about the state of Mandalore - had they established a settlement? Had they found more Mandalorians? Were they safe? Had they had any more run-ins with Imperial remnants? Did they have the resources they needed?

Din threw in the occasional comment or hum of agreement or disagreement, but for most of the meeting he had been distracted, much to the obvious disapproval of Bo-Katan next to him. He knew he should do better, be trying harder, he was the damned Mand’alor after all, but he couldn’t take his mind off of their run in with the Jedi.

_ Din stared at the Jedi in front of him for a long minute. Probably too long. _

_ The Jedi stared back, lips quirked with a serene smile. An awkward silence had descended upon the group. _

_ He heard Bo-Katan shift awkwardly beside him, clearing her throat. _

_“Jetii,”_ _she greeted, distaste clear in her tone._

Why was the Jedi on Coruscant? What business did he have with the New Republic? Of course, it wasn’t any of Din’s business to question the Jedi , but it seemed strange that whatever business Skywalker had seemed to line up perfectly with Mandalore’s first introduction to the New Republic. 

_ “I know our people have a… complicated history, so I thought it would be a good idea to meet on neutral ground to introduce myself. I apologize for the abruptness.” _

Did Skywalker not recognize Din? He’d introduced himself and spoke as if he’d never seen the Mandalorian before in his life. He supposed it was possible that Skywalker simply didn’t recognize him, with his new armor paint job and the obnoxious cloak. But the Jedi had winked at Din - what the kriff had that been about then?

_ “I assure you, the new Jedi Order has no… conflict with the Mandalorians,” the Jedi said, lips quirked as if amused. “But I would love to arrange a meeting to sit down and speak with you about it while you are here, Mand’alor. If you have the time _ _ , _ _ of course.” _

Din had simply nodded, voice stuck in his throat, and the Jedi had smiled brightly and said he’d be in contact through the Senate in the next couple of days. Then he had been gone with a whirl of black robes, leaving Din and his party to follow the Minister to their guest quarters. Even Bo-Katan looked at Din as though taken aback by the abrupt and aloof behavior.

If the Jedi was on Coruscant, did that mean the child was with him? Din felt his heart race at the thought. Could this be his chance to finally see his son again after so long apart? But that seemed silly. Why would the Jedi bring a toddler to deal with New Republic business on Coruscant? He gathered that the Jedi didn’t actually live on the city-planet, so maybe he’d left Grogu under the care of someone else while he was gone?

His chest clenched at the thought of finally finding the Jedi after all this time and  _ still  _ missing his son.

He felt Bo-Katan kick his foot under the table and he tried to pay attention.

Din really felt out of his element here. He was never the type to sit down and negotiate, to take the time to plan and deal with bureaucracy and red tape. His philosophy more involved shooting at things until they did what he wanted, but he understood that that particular strategy would most definitely be frowned upon when it came to governance. And probably considered unbecoming of a king.

Bo-Katan kicked his foot again, harder this time, and he tried his hardest to tune into the conversation.

“--benefit from connecting to the New Republic trade routes and systems.”

“Once our numbers grow and we are able to reclaim more cities, it could be beneficial, yes,” Bo-Katan was saying. She glanced at him and though her face was carefully blank Din could feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of his head. “Mandalore outside of the domed cities is a wasteland, inhospitable. Before the Purge we often had to import a lot of our resources.”

“That is something we can look into for the future,” the Chancellor, Mon Mothma, nodded from her seat across from Din.

“I fear Mandalore may not have much to offer in return,” Din said cautiously.

Minister Organa smiled reassuringly.

“We wouldn’t ask you of anything while your people are still-”

“Actually… there is  _ something  _ you could offer us, Mand’alor,” the Mon Calamari, Admiral Ackbar, interrupted.

The Chancellor turned to look at him, eyes wide and harsh. Minister Organa looked surprised at the outburst, and confused.

“...what did you have in mind, Admiral?”

Ackbar smiled, his face suddenly fierce.

“Mandalorians were once considered the greatest and fiercest warriors in the galaxy. You have even managed to single - handedly take down Moff Gideon and his operations,” Admiral Ackbar said diplomatically. “I believe Mandalore’s fighting skill could be useful to the New Republic in their fight against Imperial remnants.”

“No,” Din said before anyone could say anything else. “Our people… we are still trying to settle. We are small. Many are still scattered across the Galaxy with no place to call home, no sense of security. We don’t have the ability to organize to that degree at this time. We are not an army.”

“You came here asking for our help, we just ask that—“

“We are still trying to handle the remnants that linger on our own planet. Our people aren’t stable enough to be sending  _ mando’ade  _ into battle in the name of New Republic interests when we are still trying to situate our own.”

“Admiral Ackbar, this request was never agreed upon by the Senate--” Chancellor Mothma admonished, brows furrowing.

“I had hoped we could agree that flushing out the lingerings of the Empire would be of interest to both of us,” Ackbar cut her off, frustration slipping into his diplomatic tone. “Given Mandalore’s history--”

“I am not saying it isn’t,” Din cut in, raising his voice to be heard over Ackbar’s grumbling. He sat up straighter in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his voice firm but calm. “I am saying I’m not going to agree to make New Republic aid contingent on our people becoming an army to be used at the whims of  _ aruetiise _ . If there are  _ mando’ade  _ who wish to join your cause on their own volition, I will not stop them. But I refuse to... sign them over to you. I do not trade in people's lives.”

“In exchange, the New Republic’s forces would be more than happy to provide the money and resources needed to advance the charge on the remaining Imperial holds on Mandalore--”

“We do not need help to reclaim our planet,” Bo-Katan cut the Admiral off haughtily, sitting up straighter in her chair. “We can handle our affairs for ourselves, thank you. It is a point of honor for our people, for the Mand’alor. We do not need the help of outsiders. This is the way.”

“This is the way,” Din echoed his support. 

The room grew tense as silence descended upon the group, everyone’s footing suddenly unsure. The rest of the Senate hadn’t anticipated Ackbar’s request any more than Ackbar had anticipated being denied so quickly and resolutely. 

“Probably for the best,” a Bothan senator spoke up from a couple seats down from Ackbar. “Not sure if you would want to deal with Mandos anyway. Didn’t work out so well last time, as I recall.”

Din felt a spike of irritation as he and Bo-Katan turned to look at the Bothan.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Bo-Katan asked carefully.

“I’m just saying, I think we have good reason to be cautious of dealing with Mandalorians. Your kind has a history, of course.”

Din tipped his head to the side.

“My kind?”

The Bothan seemed flustered for a moment, sputtering his words before clearing his throat.

“There are stories,” he said audaciously. “Mandalorians have garnered quite the reputation for themselves in the years since the Empire came to power. And we all remember the mess on Mandalore before that.”

Din hummed, arms crossing once more. There was silence for a moment, and Din could see the Chancellor and Minister Organa glance at one another.

“I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Din asked.

The Bothan’s eyes widened and irritation flashed across his face.

“Senator Fey’lya--” the Chancellor tried to cut in.

Fey’lya cut her off, eyes burning into Din’s t-visor.

“We have not, of course, forgotten the actions of those Mandalorian terrorists who worked with Lord Maul during the Mandalorian Civil Wars.”

Din felt Bo-Katan stiffen next to him and he very carefully did not look at her. He… honestly wasn’t sure this was an argument he was prepared to have. He may have technically been Death Watch once himself, but it was brief and long after the actions of Lord Maul and the Shadow Collective. That was a conflict he himself wasn’t sure he really understood, having only just learned of it in the last few months or so.

“I think it’s safe to say our people have already suffered the consequences of Death Watch’s decisions, Senator,” Bo-Katan bit out, voice strained. She was so tense Din could practically feel the strain of it in his own muscles. “And we did manage to drive the Sith out in the end.”

“Only with Republic help, of course.”

“You mean the same Republic that then appointed Emperor Palpatine, laid waste to our planet, and plunged us into another war when we refused to follow him?” Koska spat from behind Bo-Katan.

“We are not here to judge the actions of previous leadership,” Chancellor Mothma said diplomatically, giving Fey’lya a hard look.

“I suppose not,” Koska said, voice sickeningly sweet, “otherwise it wouldn’t look very good for  _ you _ either, would it?”

Din held a hand up and he heard Koska huff, but she fell silent.

“I can assure you we have no interest in allying with or supporting any Imperial factions, Senator, if that is what you are suggesting,” Din spoke up. “Our only interest with the Empire is getting them out of our cities and off of our planet once and for all.”

“Yet you escue New Republic support?”

Din stared incredulously. 

“You insult our people by accusing us of being terrorists and Imperial sympathizers and then ask me why I do not want to hand over Mandalorians to do the New Republic’s bidding?”

“I am simply saying--”

“Then say less,” Din said, anger bleeding into his voice. “You’re right, Senator, Mandalore is certainly not innocent and had a dark and bloody history well before the Empire took hold, but I think it is safe to say that we have suffered enough. The Empire tried to orchestrate the mass genocide of our people. They nearly succeeded - many of the  _ mando’ade  _ you speak of have been long dead by the Empire’s hands. Why would I want to team up with anyone who worked for those monsters?”

“Really?” Admiral Akbar chimed in, looking far too smug for Din’s comfort. “Then why is one of your advisors a bounty hunter who was once on Lord Vader’s payroll?”

Din froze and out of the corner of his eye he saw Minister Organa do the same. Bo-Katan twitched beside him, her hand going to the blaster on her hip, her body radiating anger.

“How  _ dare  _ you--“

Din held up a hand and Bo-Katan fell silent, though her hand stayed on her blaster. Chancellor Mothma was still, eyes calculating as she watched them.

“If you have something to say,  _ Admiral _ ,” Din said softly, sitting up straighter in his chair and meeting his gaze head on, “then say it.”

“What about you,  _ Mand’alor, _ ” Fey’lya cut in with a smirk, “you were a bounty hunter once, a well known one in the Outer Rim from what I hear. Do you have any…  _ dealings  _ with the Empire?”

All of a sudden Din felt cold inside and he thought of the lava flats of Navarro, the sounds of Grogu’s cries as he was taken to a back room with stormtroopers in dirty armor as Din watched. Did they know of what he’d done? The biggest mistake and the greatest regret of his life had been handing Grogu over to the Client, even for that short amount of time before he went back to make it right. He knew that decision would haunt him for as long as he lived, though he never expected it to haunt him like this. Had Moff Gideon talked, exposed his mistakes for all of the New Republic’s government to know? Is that what they thought of him? A leader who would sell children over to the Empire for his own gain?

He heard Axe bristle behind him, offended on his behalf as he was the only other person in the room who knew the full story of Din’s foundling.

All of a sudden his cold panic pulled back and Din almost felt dizzy as the adrenaline left his body just as quickly as it had arrived.

“I think we all need to take a step back,” Minister Organa said, hand held out placatingly in front of her. “No one here is under investigation. And even if they were, the Mand’alor has given us no reason to believe he supports the Empire. As you pointed out, they are the ones who took down Moff Gideon. A war criminal that the New Republic  _ lost,  _ might I remind you.”

Behind him he heard Axe shift back into position and next to him Bo-Katan removed her hand from her blaster, though her face was still filled with fury. 

“Yes,” the Chancellor grouted out between clenched teeth, glaring at Ackbar next to her. “I apologize, Mand’alor, for these…  _ offensive  _ outbursts. We do not wish to accuse you of anything. This was meant to be a  _ peaceful  _ discussion that may one day lead to negotiation.”

The Kashyyyk representative at the end of the table let out a deep, warbling roar.

“I agree, Senator Kerrithrarr,” Chancellor Mothma said, face carefully blank but eyes tired. “I think we should recess for today and come back tomorrow.”

“I concur,” Bo-Katan spat, already on her feet. 

Around them the Senators rose as well and vague chatter broke out within the room. Din saw the Chancellor and Minister Organa turn to Admiral Ackbar and pull him to the side, their faces pulled in displeasure.

Bo-Katan grabbed Din’s elbow as he stood, pulling him over to a corner with Axe and Koska. She shook her head angrily, jerking her helmet under her arm.

“I can’t believe this,” she seethed, glaring over at Senator Fey’lya where he was now being scolded by the Chancellor. “Treating us this way. They’re the ones who invited  _ us  _ here. We would have been perfectly fine to continue on without their  _ help. _ ”

Din shook his head slowly, glancing around the room.

“I’m not surprised, exactly,” he said carefully. “They’re not… factually wrong. Boba did do a job for Vader. We were both Death Watch. You worked with Maul.”

Bo-Katan jerked back as if she’d been slapped.

“Din, you know that I--”

“I know.”

“If I could go back, I--”

“Bo,” Din said softly, his hand grabbing onto her vambrace for a moment before pulling back. “I  _ know.  _ I’m not saying they’re  _ right  _ in their assumptions. They don’t know… they don’t understand. I’m just saying I can see why they might assume. Though I didn’t expect to be confronted with this quite so early in the negotiations.”

“Not all of them think that way, surely,” Axe said, helmet turning between the two. “The Chancellor seems just as angry as we are. The Minister too, possibly the Wookie.”

“The Chancellor wasn’t exactly trying very hard to stop their vitriol though, was she,” Koska pointed out. Privately, Din agreed.

He glanced back to where the Chancellor and Minister were now whispering quietly to each other.

“We just need to be careful. I get the feeling not everyone agreed with us coming here,” Din said quietly. 

The other three glanced at each other before nodding. Bo-Katan was pulling her helmet back on when Din heard a voice behind him.

“Mand’alor?”

Din turned around and saw Minister Organa standing behind him. She glanced to his companions before squaring her shoulders and meeting his gaze head on.

“I was wondering if you might walk with me to my office? I’d like to speak with you privately, if that’s alright.”

Din paused for a moment and sized the woman up, but she seemed to be sincere so he nodded. He glanced back at Bo-Katan.

She stared at the Minister for a moment then jerked her head at Axe.

“Go with them. Make sure they aren’t left alone.”

Axe dipped his head in acknowledgment, hand coming up to rest on his blaster before turning to Din.

“Lead the way, Minister.”

~

Once they left the meeting chamber they fell into an awkward silence. Axe was walking a few steps behind him, blaster out but not engaged, gaze scanning the hallway as they walked. Din fell silently into step beside the Minister, waiting for her to speak her mind.

“I wanted to apologize for my colleagues’ words,” Senator Organa said finally, turning to him earnestly. “We really did invite you here with the intention of introducing you to the New Republic and discussing the needs of Mandalore for the future. The Chancellor and I had no idea  that  the Admiral and Senator Fey’lya were going to behave in such a way.”

“Thank you,” Din nodded, “I suppose their words were not… entirely surprising. Mandalorians have a certain reputation and history, it’d be naive to believe the end of the war would change that.”

“Still, it is no excuse to treat you as if you're just… savages meant for nothing but war, or a… a threat to society,” Organa said, eyes flashing in anger. “Like you said, your people are only trying to reclaim their home. They want to feel safe and have a place where they belong, that they can call their own.”

The Minister was quiet for a moment, contemplative.

“I am from Alderaan,” she said softly, eyes gazing distantly down the hallway, mind lost in memory. “I know how it feels to have what’s left of your people adrift across the Galaxy, longing for a home you can no longer have. I’m glad Mandalore has the chance to take back what was stolen by the Empire.”

Din nodded, recalling what Cara had told him of the Minister when preparing him for his meeting with the Senate. Former rebellion general and Princess of Alderaan, forced to watch as the Empire killed millions of her people in seconds. The devastating reach of the Empire touched many peoples and cultures within the Galaxy.

”I’m very sorry for your loss,” Din said, knowing the words were hollow but still feeling the need to say them. “Your sympathies and understanding are very much appreciated, Minister.”

“Please, call me Leia,” Leia said with a smile, “the formality of it all gets a little exhausting after awhile.”

“I agree.”

“Forgive me for asking, I don’t want to be rude,” Leia said hesitantly, “but… does everyone just call you Mand’alor? I noticed Bo-Katan Kryze gave a name, but you didn’t.”

“I come from a tribe of more… orthodox followers of The Way of the Mandalore.” Din said slowly. “As Mandalorians we are both hunter and prey. We constantly cover our faces and do not give out our names, not only to protect ourselves but also because those things are considered sacred. Personal. We only give our names to those who we deem to be safe and trustworthy. Before I won the darksaber most called me ‘Mandalorian’ or ‘Mando.’”

“That’s fascinating,” Leia said eagerly, and to Din’s surprise she looked to be genuinely interested in the information. He was used to people questioning his beliefs, as if asking him to justify himself for them, but Leia simply accepted it as it was. “I tried to study up on Mandalorian culture before you all arrived, but information seems to be lacking in the official archives. I assume the Empire had a hand in that.”

He wouldn’t be surprised. He’d quickly learned that the Empire really did their best to wipe out their people, fearful of what the Mandalorians would do if able to fully rally their forces against them. Removing what little information was freely available to the public and spreading propaganda and falsehoods against their people certainly helped prevent them from finding another stronghold within the Galaxy after the Purge. Most individuals these days only knew Mandalorians as bounty hunters or violent criminals, like Fey’lya apparently, and often looked at them with fear or caution. And while it was true that some Mandalorians had turned to hunting and crime to be able to survive in a post purge Galaxy, there were still many, like those rescued and brought back to Enceri and his Tribe on Nevarro, who just wanted to live their lives safely and in peace. Who just wanted to live free of persecution.

“It is possible,” Din nodded, “though much of Mandalorian history and culture isn’t written down outside of official record on Mandalore, and the Empire destroyed most of that as well. Our culture is very much an oral one. It is meant to be taught to each new generation through story and song. Unfortunately , that means a lot of it was lost with those  _ Mando’ade _ who lost their lives in the Purge and after.”

Leia hummed sadly.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said sincerely. “Hopefully as you find more of your people and reestablish your planet you may gain some of that knowledge back.”

They continued to walk in silence for a few moments, Leia lost in thought. Din found himself comfortable in the silence. There was something about Leia that appeared very genuine - her kindheartedness was not simply an act, but a real care and want to help those around her. However, there was something else there, something that commanded respect. There was a graceful power behind her that Din admired. He suspected if she wanted to she could take him down without breaking a sweat and the thought honestly impressed him. He looked forward to working with the Minister in the future.

Something nagged at the back of his mind, though. He thought of the disgust Senator Fey’lya directed towards him and Bo-Katan, of the quiet but clear contempt Ackbar held for Boba Fett, the way Leia had tensed at the reference to the man. The implication that Din had worked for the Empire simply because he’d been a bounty hunter. The way the rest of the Senate and even the Chancellor hadn’t stopped Ackbar and Fey’lya from spewing their hatred and accusations until Bo-Katan had been angry enough to shoot and Leia stepped in.

“Minister Organa,” Din said as they came to a stop outside her office door. Leia turned to him, face hardening back into political aloofness at his formal address.

“I wanted to reiterate my appreciation for your willingness to stand up for our people and our honor. I do not want to seem ungrateful for what the New Republic is trying to do for us. But given the… hostility some in the Senate seem to hold for our people, I wanted to make sure one thing is very clear.”

Leia’s nodded, face carefully blank, though Din could see her eyes harden. 

“Mandalore has no quarrel with the New Republic. We have no desire to start another war. But understand that if the New Republic ever feels so inclined to raise its weapons against us… we won’t hesitate to put a stop to it.”

The air felt heavier suddenly, thicker as Leia stared up at him through the visor, eyes wide but calculating. Din felt his skin erupt in goosebumps even beneath all his armor and clothing, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

“Understood,” Leia said softly, nodding slightly.

Leia continued to stare up at him, eyes searching and brows slightly furrowed as though he were a puzzle she was trying to figure out. Din held eye contact through the visor, refusing to be the first to back down from whatever was happening between them. 

The moment was broken by the senator's office door suddenly jerking open, a childlike shout coming from within as a little boy ran out chased by a gold droid.

“Oh I do say, Master Ben, please stay in the office until your mother—“

The little boy, Ben, ignored the droid, laughing as he ran around his mother with a wooden toy sword held in his hand. 

Or he was laughing, until he ran out from behind his mother and tripped, falling into Din’s legs with a small shout.

“Ben!” Leia yelped, reaching forward to grab her son and pull him back from the Mandalorian. “Be careful! I’m so sorry, Mand’alor, I—“

“It’s alright,” Din said softly, raising a hand to cut off her apology.

He looked down at the little boy. His hair was jet black and his eyes were a dark brown, freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. His face was pink in embarrassment, and he was staring up at Din with wide, but curious eyes. He was no longer laughing and smiling but now he seemed shy, perhaps nervous of Din’s reaction. Din towered over the kid and probably looked a little terrifying with his dark armor and a spear in his hand.

Din glanced up at Leia for a second before turning and handing off his spear to Axe behind him. He waved his cloak out of the way as he knelt to squat down in front of Ben. Ben followed him with his eyes, one hand holding his toy sword limp at his side while the other fiddled anxiously with his lip.

“Hello,” Din said gently, trying to make himself look as small as possible. “What’s your name?”

Ben was quiet for a moment, unsure if he should respond.

“B-Ben Solo.”

“Hi, Ben Solo,” Din smiled. “I’m Din.”

He heard Leia gasp sharply above them, but he kept his helmet trained on the boy. Ben leaned back against his mom’s legs, but kept looking at Din.

“H-Hi, Mister Din.”

Din tilted his head to the side as he gestured down to the toy in Ben’s hands.

“What do you have there?”

“It’s m-my sword,” Ben mumbled into his fingers, though he lifted the sword a little to show it to Din.

“It’s a very nice sword,” Din commented seriously. “What were you doing with it?”

“I was fightin’ pirates!”

“Wow,” Din gasped, “Pirates? That’s pretty impressive, kid. You know, I’ve fought a few pirates in my day.”

Ben seemed to perk up at that and his hand dropped from his mouth to fiddle with his shirt. 

“Really? That’s so cool!”

“If you want, I can show you how to hold your sword so that you’ll be able to take down the pirates every time.”

Ben smiled, his eyes going wide in excitement before looking up at his mother pleadingly. Din glanced up at Leia, who looked hesitant for a moment, biting her lip before nodding at the pair.

Ben held his sword up again, and Din lifted his gloved hands to reposition Ben’s hands on the hilt of the toy.

“Here… place your hands like this…,” Din placed both of Ben’s little hands on the hilt, not too close to the blade but not too far down. “If you use both hands it’ll give you more control over your swing and put less stress on your one arm.”

He placed his hands over Ben’s and showed him how to slash the word across, up, and then across.

“Just like that. You try.”

Ben stepped back and swung his blade the way Din showed him. On the down swing, the toy accidentally collided with Din’s right vambrace where it had been resting across his knees, the wood clanging slightly against the metal.

“Oh Ben, be careful,” Leia said, putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder and moving him back a step.

Ben’s face was turning pink again at his mothers admonishment and he seemed shy again.

“S-sorry Mister Din!”

Din chucked and shook his head.

“It’s alright. I didn’t even feel it,” he raised his other arm and knocked his vambraces against one another, the beskar clanging loudly in the quiet hallway. “My armor is made of beskar, the strongest metal in the whole Galaxy. Nothing can cut through it.”

Ben perked back up at that.

“Nothing?” He asked excitedly. “Not even a lightsaber?”

“Not even those,” Din confirmed with a nod, belatedly wondering how the hell this kid even knew what a lightsaber was.

“Woah,” Ben breathed, looking appreciatively at Din’s armor. “That’s so cool!”

“Alright sweetheart,” Leia said, putting her hand on Ben’s shoulder and smiling down at the boy. “It’s about time for us to go home. Why don’t you say thank you and goodbye to Mister Din?”

Ben nodded up at his mom before turning back to Din still kneeling in front of him.

“Goodbye, Mister Din. Thank you for teaching me.”

“You’re welcome,” Din smiled, nodding his head slightly in acknowledgement. “Keep practicing and I think you could be the most fearsome pirate hunter in the galaxy.”

Ben giggled and nodded, holding his sword carefully in front of him with both hands.

Din stood back up, his knees popping slightly.

Leia stared for a second with an unreadable expression before smiling slightly and mouthing a quiet ‘ _ thank you.’ _

Din nodded again and turned to Axe to take back his spear.

“I’m afraid I must leave and get this one home,” Leia said, nodding down to her son. “C-3PO will show you and your guards to your accommodations for the night. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mand’alor. I look forward to continuing our talks tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Minister,” Din said, ignoring the slight dread he felt at having to be escorted through New Republic territory by a  _ droid.  _ “For everything. I will see you tomorrow.”

Leia nodded before turning to go into her office.

As Din turned to follow the droid to the lift - “C-3PO, human-cyborg relations, at your service your highness” - he heard Ben’s small voice speak up behind him.

“He was really shiny, Momma.”

“Yes, his armor was very shiny wasn’t it?”

Ben giggled. “Not his armor, Momma! The light—“

Din didn’t hear the rest of Ben’s sentence as the elevator doors closed in front of him and the lift started ascending.

~

“Well, that could’ve gone better.”

Din snorted at Axe’s dry statement.

“I feel like that’s an impressive understatement,” Din said sarcastically.

They were standing in Din’s rooms, Din finally able to take the dreaded red cloak off now that negotiations were done for the day. He fiddled with the ties and the clasps, struggling to detach it from his chest plate with how the damn thing was wrapped around his neck and shoulders.

“It could have gone worse,” Axe said from his place against the wall by the door. He sounded entirely too amused. “At least Bo-Katan didn’t shoot anyone.”

“Yeah,” Din mumbled, grunting as his fingers fumbled on with the cloak, “barely.”

Axe stood watching Din struggle for a moment before he rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall and walked over to him.

“Do you need help?”

“How did you even get the stupid thing on in the first place?”

Axe just smiled, stopping behind Din to grab the cloak and flip it over his shoulder, moving around to his front and pushing it back over the other shoulder so it was no longer wrapping Din.

“Why are you so tangled in it?” Axe asked, amused.

Din huffed, but lifted his head so Axe could easily access the claps and untie the fabric from his chest plate and shoulders. They stood in easy silence for a moment before Din broke it, the niggling worry he’d been feeling since that disastrous meeting overwhelming his mind.

“What if I can’t do this?"

Axe’s fingers fumbled at Din’s question, looking up into Din’s helmet in confusion.

“It’s just a cloak-”

“Mandalore,” Din elaborated, “uniting the Mandalorians. I was never cut out to be a king, Axe. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m no politician. In that meeting today… I’m not… everything has worked out so far but we’ve only found a few  _ Mando’ade _ . There could be so many more out there and not all of them are going to trust me, follow my rule. I may not be able to convince all of them. What if I’m not good enough, what if--”

“No- Mand’alor, no,” Axe cut him off, hands going to Din’s shoulders and shaking him a bit. “You- you won the darksaber in combat against the Moff responsible for the destruction of our culture, our people, our planet. While protecting a foundling. No one is going to argue that you shouldn’t be here. And even still, you are doing  _ everything  _ you can to help our people with your position, even though you didn’t want it. The people of Enceri respect you. You are their king. Even the ones who fought against you at first, you treated them with respect and honor and took their challenges and you  _ won _ . You’re doing everything right.”

Din shook his head slowly.

“What if it’s not enough?”

Axe said nothing for a moment. He moved his hands from Din’s shoulders, reaching down to fiddle with the last clasp of his cloak. The cloak finally came undone and Din felt the weight of it fall from his shoulders. Axe reached around him to catch it before it hit the ground, folding it over his arm and holding it against his chest.

Axe’s eyes met Din’s visor.

“I think you’re enough,” Axe said quietly. “I think you’re more than enough.”

Din had to look away from the open admiration on Axe’s face, feeling too vulnerable. He found himself wishing Axe was still wearing his helmet.

Axe held his gaze for a moment before smiling sadly, turning to take the cloak away. Before he could get far, Din reached out to grasp his elbow. Axe stopped and looked down at his hand before looking up to Din’s visor.

“Thank you, Axe,” Din said. ‘You’re a good friend.”

Something flashed in Axe’s eyes, but it was gone too quickly for Din to decipher what it was or what it meant.

“Of course,” Axe said softly, pulling his arm out of Din’s hold and turning to go hang the cloak in the closet. “Anytime.”

Din stood and watched after him, feeling oddly like he’d missed something important. When Axe came out of the closet, he seemed back to his normal, sarcastic, pain-in-Din’s-ass self.

“I need to start guard duty,” he said, jerking his head towards the door. “Is there anything else I can do for you, your  _ highness? _ ”

Din chuckled.

“No, I think I can--”

He cut off and turned toward the door as knocking sounded through the living quarters.

Axe sighed in feigned irritation.

“It’s probably Koska,” he said, walking towards the door to the living area, “Bo-Katan wouldn’t knock.”

Din nodded and left him to it. He started the process of removing his armor, fingers fiddling with his vambrace to demagnetize it when he heard a voice carry through to his room he froze.

“I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I was hoping to speak with the Mand’alor.”

Din raced out of his room and into the living area before he even realized he was moving.

Axe was standing awkwardly by the door, blocking the Jedi from entering. The Jedi looked behind Axe and smiled.

“I know it’s late, Mand’alor, but I was hoping we could talk.”

Axe looked back to Din, clearly uncertain how to handle the situation.

Din cleared his throat.

“Let him in, Axe.”

Axe didn’t move for a moment, holding Din’s gaze before he nodded and stepped back. The Jedi stepped into the room after him, arms clasped behind his back. He was still in his all black ensemble, but his robes were now missing.

“Sorry about earlier,” the Jedi said casually, looking around the room. “I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea the New Republic knew of our... acquaintance.”

“So you do remember me?”

The Jedi stopped by the couch and turned to him with a smile.

“You’re a hard man to forget.”

The Jedi met his eyes through the visor and Din felt his breath hitch and his heart beat a little faster.

Axe shifted in his spot by the door and Din’s trance was broken. He turned to look at his friend before glancing back at the Jedi.

“Axe, do you think you can…” Din trailed off.

Axe’s face twisted for a moment.

“I don’t know if--”

“Axe,” Din said softly. “Please.”

Axe sighed, glancing at the Jedi for a moment before nodding. He gestured to the door.

“I’ll be on guard outside. Yell if you need me.”

Din nodded. “Thank you.”

Axe glanced back to the Jedi in thinly veiled suspicion before opening the front door again and stepping outside.

When he looked back at the Jedi the man was still standing there by the couch, a smile gracing his lips. His blue eyes were twinkling.

“My name is Luke by the way,” the Jedi said suddenly, cheeks turning pink slightly. “Luke Skywalker. I realized I never told you, before. I… didn’t tell you a lot of things I should’ve, actually. Grogu was very cross with me.”

Din felt his stomach lurch at the mention of the child. He thought of Grogu, ears turned down and eyes squinted in disapproval at the Jedi and fought back a chuckle at the feeling. He felt that same twinkling of excitement from when they arrived earlier that day bubble up inside him.

“Grogu… he is okay?”

The Jedi - Luke - smiled knowingly, face softening.

“Grogu is okay. Grogu is great, actually.” Luke laughed lightly. “He’s improved a lot. Sometimes I wonder if maybe he could teach me a thing or two.”

Din nodded, smiling slightly under the helmet. An image of the child pulling the silver knob from the Razor Crest from his fingers flashed through his mind, and that happy excitement built even more. 

“I was wondering if you might like to go on a little trip with me,” Luke said suddenly, eyes glinting in mischief. 

Din tipped his helmet to the side.

“In the middle of the night?”

Luke shrugged. “Why not?”

Din glanced at the door that Axe was standing behind. If Bo-Katan found out he’d left his quarters to go galivanting through Coruscant with the Jedi she’d no doubt be very cross with him.

“Okay,” Din said, nodding slightly. “A trip where?”

Luke's face brightened into a fill blown grin.

“Great! We’re just going to my rooms… I have someone who’s been dying to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Axe :(
> 
> I know I promised there would be more Luke in this one and... technically I was right because he has more than two lines this time :D (he'll be in whole chapters starting now I promise)
> 
> Y'all know what is coming next :))))


	6. you are loved more than you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke stepped back, nodding his head toward the doorway with a smile.
> 
> “Go ahead.”
> 
> Din grinned and walked inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment everyone has been waiting for!! Thank you all so much for your amazing response to the last chapter, I'm so glad so many of you are enjoying this fic and I've honestly been blow away by your support. I read and reread every comment for motivation. I had half of this chapter written within a couple hours of posting the last one because you all are so amazing! I love and appreciate you all so much!
> 
> That being said.
> 
> I'm so sorry. Some of you saw this coming.
> 
> Minor character death ahead.
> 
> Chapter title from Light by Sleeping At Last

Axe jumped as the door slid open, his now-helmeted head swinging around to look at the pair behind him.

His gaze flickered down to the darksaber on Din’s belt and the blaster placed back into its holster on his hip.

“What’s wrong?” Axe asked, hand going to his own blaster as if preparing for trouble.

“Nothing,” Din said, raising a placating hand, “I’m going out.”

Axe laughed as though Din had made some sort of joke, but quieted as he looked between the two men in the doorway.

“You’re serious?” Axe gaped. “Mand’alor, you can’t just-”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I’m not just going to let you go off with a- a New Republic _Jetii_ in the middle of the night by yourself!”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Din repeated, “I can take care of myself just fine, you know that. Besides, I… I trust him.”

He couldn’t explain it, just like he couldn’t explain it that day they met on Gideon’s cruiser, but there was something about Luke that just made something settle inside Din. It was why he’d been willing to let the Jedi take Grogu that day, trusting his word that they would see each other again. Being around Luke felt like a bacta patch on the burning anxiety and worry he felt near constantly inside him. Something inside of him was telling him he could trust Luke, and Ahsoka had taught him to follow his gut when those feelings made themselves known.

“I don’t,” Axe said shortly, glaring at Luke over Din’s shoulder. Thankfully Luke didn’t seem offended or bothered by the tone.

Din put a hand on Axe’s shoulder and gently pushed him out of the way so he could step into the hallway. He heard Luke step out behind him and the door slid shut. He glanced over to the Jedi, who had walked a few steps away from the pair to give them privacy.

“Axe,” Din said quietly, “I need to go with him. He… that’s the Jedi that has Grogu. He’s here, Axe. Grogu is _here._ ”

Axe held his gaze through their visors before Axe broke, his hand lifting to run over his helmet.

“Let me go with you,” Axe said, “ _you said_ we need to be careful while we’re here.”

Din shook his head. “If Bo-Katan comes and we’re both gone you know she’s going to assume the worst and immediately call for blood. Especially after that meeting today.”

“Oh, so you want me to stay here so she can kill me instead?” Axe huffed sarcastically.

“Please, Axe,” Din pleaded, letting his desperation slip into his voice. “I… I _have_ to see him. I need to go.”

“Mand’alor—“

Din reached out and grabbed Axe’s gloved hand in his. Axe froze, his head tilted as he met Din’s gaze.

“Don’t you trust me?”

Axe exhaled forcefully. He glanced down at Din’s hand on his.

“Don’t _do_ that,” Axe said, a smile clear in his tone. “You know I do.”

Din said nothing, just stared beseechingly at the other man.

Axe groaned, his head falling back in exasperation.

“Okay, okay, _maker,_ ” Axe chuckled breathlessly, “I can feel your pouty eyes through the helmet.”

“Thank you,” Din breathed, his hand squeezing Axe’s.

“Yeah, yeah,” Axe teased. “I’m going to regret this. Just so we’re clear, if Bo-Katan comes looking for you I’m not going to protect your ass.”

“I’m not afraid of Bo-Katan,” Din said, eyes rolling under his helmet.

“Yeah, that makes one of us.”

Axe looked turned to look back at Luke, who was waiting patiently down the hall by the lift, facing away from them to give them privacy.

Axe sighed and squeezed Din’s hand back before releasing it and taking a step back.

“Alright. Go see your kid,” Axe said, head jerking over to the Jedi.

Din nodded and stepped around Axe, making his way over to the Jedi. Luke pressed the button for the lift as he approached, the doors opening with a soft _whoosh_.

“Hey, Din?”

Din froze, whirling around to look back at the other Mandalorian.

Axe was standing in the middle of the hallway, staring blankly down at the pair. His body language was stiff, unreadable to Din. Suddenly Din wished Axe wasn’t wearing his helmet so he could figure out what the other man was thinking as he watched them.

“Tell the kid I said hi, yeah?”

Din hesitated for a moment before he nodded, chest feeling heavy for some inexplicable reason. The lift doors shut with another _whoosh,_ cutting Axe from view as he stepped back into his post in front of Din’s door, head tipped down toward the ground, hand flexing and clenching at his side.

_Hey, Din?_

Din wracked his brain and tried to recall if there was ever a time in their near two years of friendship that Axe had ever called him by his name. It was always _Mand’alor_ or _your kingship_ or _your highness_ or _my king_ , said with a teasing smirk or a soft smile, eyes twinkling or head and helmet tilted sarcastically.

“You two seem close.”

Din looked towards the other man, the Jedi watching him with a blank yet polite stare.

Din hummed.

“Yes, he’s… a loyal friend. Very protective.”

“Makes sense,” the Jedi nodded. “It seems you’ve been through a lot since we last met.”

“Yes…”

“If it helps, I don’t plan on trying to murder you,” Luke teased with a smirk. “I don’t think Grogu would appreciate it.”

Din huffed lightly, still lost in thought.

Luke shifted next to him, turning to look at his visor, arms crossing.

“I have to confess, I haven’t been entirely honest,” Luke said, cheeks lightly flushed pink. “I don’t actually have any business on Coruscant. I’m really just here to see you.”

Din tilted his head in question.

“Me?”

“When my sister told me she was meeting with the new Mand’alor, I didn’t think anything of it. But Grogu overheard and started fussing up a storm, he was practically begging me to come to Coruscant. I didn’t understand until he showed me his memory of you carrying _that,_ ” Luke nodded down to the darksaber hanging from Din’s utility belt.

“He told me about how you tried to give it to that other Mandalorian and I tried to warn him that there was a chance it wouldn’t be you, but he’s very stubborn. I agreed to come but only if I could meet with you first.”

Luke laughed a little and he looked at Din with scrutinizing eyes.

“It was pointless, of course,” Luke said, “as soon as your ship dropped out of hyperspace he could sense it was you.”

“He… sensed me?”

“Of course,” Luke said gently, “I told you, the bond between you two is… very strong.”

Din thought back to the anticipation he’d felt as soon as he’d dropped out of hyperspace that had only built the closer he got to the planet. The same anticipation he had been feeling since the Jedi appeared in his quarters.

Luke continued to stare at Din, eyes narrowed slightly as though he were trying to figure something out. Din turned his gaze to the lift door, neck prickling uncomfortably. It felt weirdly like the Jedi was looking past his armor and into his very being.

The lift door opened and Luke broke his gaze, walking out into a slightly less opulent hallway than the one they had just left.

Din stepped off the elevator and that anticipation burst from a low simmer to a raging heat, hitting him full force as his hands clenched against the butterflies that suddenly erupted in his stomach. He looked toward a door at the end of the hallway and immediately knew without Luke saying that that was the door they were heading towards. 

“Normally I just stay with my sister’s family while I’m here, but,” Luke looked to Din over his shoulder, “I figured if it was really you then you and Grogu would want to be left alone.”

“Right,” Din murmured distractedly, eyes glued to the door at the end of the hall.

If Luke was bothered by his rudeness he didn’t show it, he simply walked over to the door and keyed in the code, pressing the button to activate the door.

Luke stepped back, nodding his head toward the doorway with a smile.

“Go ahead.”

Din grinned and walked inside.

As soon as his foot crossed the threshold, a loud, high pitched squeal erupted from the couch on the other side of the living room. Din felt his eyes burn at the familiar sound.

Grogu was sitting on the couch, arms raised high above his head, his lips pulled back in a huge smile showing off all of his tiny teeth, his eyes wide and shining with delight.

“ _Ad’ika,”_ Din breathed, rushing over to kneel on the ground in front of the boy.

Grogu raised his tiny, clawed hands toward him and Din leaned forward so Grogu could press them against the visor. Din sat on his knees, one hand cupping Grogu’s back while the other traced a finger along one perky ear.

“Hey kid,” he rasped through the tightness in his throat. Grogu squealed again at the sound of his voice, eyes crinkling with delight.

“ _Gah_ ,” Grogu cooed, patting his hands gently against the sides of the helmet.

Din chuckled. “Yeah, kid. I missed you too.”

They both sat there, simply basking in each other’s presence as they stared happily at each other, each taking the other in.

He watched Grogu’s eyes flit around his helmet, taking in the new paint and he ran a clawed finger along the gold trim of his t-visor. He found himself looking over the child as well. His robes were different, still the same brown color, but looked more fitted so he wasn’t swimming in them like he was before. Din could see his little toes peeking out from underneath whenever he shifted. He didn’t look any bigger than the last time Din saw him, his skin still wrinkly green, cheeks pink, and fluffy white hairs littering his head.

Grogu pulled back suddenly, hands leaving Din’s helmet to reach into his robe. He pulled out a thin, familiar cord, and attached to it was the beskar mythosaur that Din had given to him so long ago.

“Ahh?” Grogu held the pendant out to him.

“You still have that thing?”

Din reached out to grab the pendant from his hands, but Grogu pulled it back against his chest with a protesting noise.

“That’s okay, ad’ika, you can keep it.”

“Ahh?” Grogu said again, holding it up.

“He says he wants to show you something,” Luke spoke up from where he was leaning against the wall across the room.

Din glanced at him before nodding, turning his attention back to the child.

“Alright, kid. Show me what you got.”

He’d expected Grogu to lift a hand and start using his powers, showing off something he’d learned from the Jedi in the time they had been apart. Instead, he did something Din would remember for the rest of his life.

Grogu lifted the mythosaur pendant up and pressed it against his forehead.

“Boo,” Grogu cooed, clenching the pendant tight in both hands before holding it out toward Din. “Boo— Boo-err.”

Din let out a disbelieving chuckle that sounded more like a strangled sob, and closed his hand around Grogu’s on the pendant.

“You—“ Din choked, “yeah, Grogu. I’m _buir. Buir_ is here.”

Grogu squealed again and Din rubbed his thumb against the child’s hand. He gave a light squeeze before he let go to wrap his arms around the boy, pulling him closer. Grogu dropped the pendant back to hang around his neck, lifting his hands back to pat at the bottom edges of Din’s helmet.

“Boo-err,” he said softly, running his claws along Din’s visor.

Din knew what Grogu wanted him to do, knew what _he_ wanted to do, but he glanced apprehensively at the Jedi watching them across the room.

Luke smiled knowingly and pushed off the wall.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” he said before he turned and walked into his bedroom. 

As soon as the door was shut, Din’s hands went up to lift the helmet from his head. He set it carefully aside and pulled off his gloves before turning back to the kid.

Grogu smiled up at him, his hands going to scratch at the scruff on Din’s cheeks and chin. Grogu giggled at the sensation and ran his fingers over Din’s jaw again.

Din smiled, turning his head into the touch to press a kiss to Grogu’s tiny palm. Grogu squealed again, his hands patting gently at Din’s cheeks. He closed his eyes; his skin felt like it was burning where the kid’s hands touched. Even though he’d taken his helmet off in front of others more in the past year and a half, Grogu was still the only living thing since Din was a child to actually touch his face. The only living thing Din had allowed close enough to know him so intimately.

Din felt a tear slip from his eye and Grogu cried out softly, ears falling back as his hand ran over the tear track on Din’s cheek.

“Muh?”

“No, I’m not sad, _ad’ika_ ,” Din laughed, running a finger along Grogu’s hand on his cheek. “I’m happy. Very happy.”

Grogu stared at him with his impossibly shiny eyes before he pressed both hands against Din’s cheeks and closed his eyes.

In the back of his mind Din felt something prodding at him, something warm and familiar, and he closed his eyes to focus on the feeling. It was small but comforting, and it twinkled gently in his mind like a little bell. Suddenly he felt that bubbling happy excitement that he’d felt all day, stronger than it had been even on the ship, and he laughed breathlessly as Grogu giggled in front of him.

“ _Oh,_ ” Din breathed, opening his eyes to look at Grogu, the kid smiling back with a familiar mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “That was _you._ ”

Grogu laughed again, falling back against Din’s forearm behind him and Din laughed along with him, heart lighter than it had felt in over a year.

Din wrapped his arms tighter around the toddler, pulling him closer so he could rest his forehead against Grogu’s. Grogu hummed happily, his hands gripping and pulling at Din’s ears.

“I was scared I wouldn’t see you again,” Din whispered.

Grogu whined and Din squeezed him tighter.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Din smiled. ”I promise.”

Din lifted his hand to cup the back of Grogu’s head.

“ _Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad,”_ Din said softly, “Grogu Djarin.”

The twinkling in his mind rose in pitch until he could feel it singing through his veins and into his heart, warming him all over. Grogu sighed, eyes falling closed, and Din felt a wave of content wash over him like the sweetest balm on the burn on his soul that had been blistering since he watched those elevator doors close on his son all those months ago.

~

It had already been late when Din arrived at the Jedi’s quarters, and now a couple hours later it was well into the night. Grogu had fallen asleep, his mouth hanging open and soft snores occasionally slipping out. Din was still on the floor by the couch, his hand resting on Grogu’s little belly as it rose and fell with each breath, Grogu’s clawed fingers gripping tight to Din’s. Din couldn’t really feel his ass anymore, but every time he shifted Grogu would whine and squeeze his fingers tighter, so Din was content to simply sit on the floor next to the boy and look at him. He could feel Grogu’s heart beat gently under his palm, the baby letting out little contented sighs when Din rubbed his ears with his other hand.

Din had put his helmet back on not long after Grogu had fallen asleep, and shortly after the latches of the beskar hissed, Luke was stepping out of his bedroom to join him on the floor at the other end of the couch.

“He was so excited to see you again,” Luke was saying, his elbow propped up on the couch cushions, head resting against his gloved fist.

Din said nothing, staring down at his son as Grogu snuffled in his sleep, his hand squeezing Din’s finger again.

“He talked about you every day. Any time he learned a new skill it was _“buir”_ this and “ _show buir_ ” that.”

“How did he-” Din’s voice was fragile, full of awe. “I never used that word around him before.”

“Ah,” Luke said sheepishly, hand fiddling with his hair, “that would be my fault. Or rather, my sister’s droid’s fault.”

“Droid?” Din asked, trying to mask the sudden tension he felt at the idea of a droid being around his son.

“After we left the cruiser, Grogu asked me what “ _ad’ika_ ” meant. I didn’t know, so I asked my sister's protocol droid. He knows over three thousand languages, you know,” Luke explained. His tone sounded as though he were making a joke only he was privy to.

“He told me it meant son or daughter, child, in Mando’a. I told Grogu and he was quiet for a bit, and then a couple days later he asked me how to say father. I asked C3-PO again and told Grogu. He’s been practicing how to say it for nearly a year now, so that when he saw you again he’d be ready. It’s the only word he knows how to say.” Luke snorted slightly. “Sort of.”

Din nodded, not trusting himself to speak through the tightness in his throat. He tried to blink away the moisture in his eyes, not wanting to cry again.

Something about Luke’s explanation sparked something in the back of his mind, though. He thought of a golden droid, chasing a child through a hallway and chittering away in an elevator, to the irritation of Din and amusement of Axe.

“C3-PO?”

“Yeah, I heard you met him,” Luke grimaced, looking sympathetic. “Sorry about that. He’s harmless, and he’s very loyal to me and my sister, but… he can be pretty annoying sometimes.”

“So, your sister…?”

“Senator Leia Organa-Solo,” Luke nodded. “Sorry — _Minister of State,_ now. We’re twins.”

Din nodded. It explained how Luke’s sister was able to tell him and Grogu that Din was visiting Coruscant when not many outside of a few in the Senate were supposed to know about it.

“She was very impressed with you, by the way,” Luke said casually. “Our only real experience with Mandalorians were bounty hunters who chased us in the war, so she wasn’t sure what to expect. She said you were quieter than she thought you’d be. More… gentle. She told me about your run in with Ben — apparently he hasn’t stopped talking about _Mr. Din the Mandalorian_ ever since. I told her you are Grogu’s father and she said it explained a lot.”

“She didn’t know?”

“She knew his father was a Mandalorian, but not that it was you. I didn’t exactly have a name to give and I certainly didn’t know you were the new Mand’alor. She’s the only one who knows, though. The Senate knows I have a padawan but they don’t know anything about him.”

Luke glanced down at Grogu for a second, his face twisting in discomfort for a moment before looking seriously back at Din.

“That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Luke said carefully. “Leia and I have agreed that it’s best the Senate doesn’t know about our connection to each other. Or your connection to Grogu. She’s afraid the Senate may try to use us as a bargaining chip to get the Mand’alor to do what they want.”

Din went cold.

“They would do that?” He growled. The government using a child as a bargaining chip, a pawn to try and bend Mandalore to their whims… it wasn’t what he had expected from the New Republic.

“Leia wouldn’t, and neither would Mothma. But the rest… I’m not sure. She wasn’t expecting the level of hatred against your people that some expressed today. She isn’t sure how far they’d be willing to go, and neither of us want to take that chance. I assume you don’t either."

Din shook his head, disgusted.

“Plus, I’d really like to avoid a war between Mandalore and the New Republic,” Luke tried to joke, but Din could tell he was serious.

Din hadn’t been lying when he told Leia that he didn’t want to fight the New Republic, but if the Senate tried to use the Mand’alor’s son against him, to blackmail him into doing what they wanted? It would be viewed as an act of war by Mandalorians everywhere and Din would certainly be inclined to act.

Grogu whined slightly in his sleep as if sensing his father’s distress. Din pushed his dark thoughts aside, reaching over to thumb away the concerned crease on his son’s forehead.

Luke was right. Neither they nor Leia were sure what the Senate might try, particularly Ackbar and Fey’lya, if they found out about Din’s connection to the Jedi. Or what they might try to make Luke do. He had no doubt Luke would try his best to prevent any harm coming to Grogu, but that was a risk neither of them wanted to take. If pretending not to know Grogu or the Jedi around the New Republic was what it took, then so be it.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

Din was pulled from his thoughts, and glanced over to the Jedi. Luke suddenly looked repentant.

“For?”

“For not giving you my name or any kind of information, before, on the cruiser.” Luke was blushing slightly, suddenly looking shy, which was not an emotion he’d seen from the usually calm and mysterious Jedi. He could see the resemblance to Luke’s nephew like this, with slightly pink cheeks and a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. 

“I never intended to keep the two of you apart for so long.”

“I didn’t either,” Din pointed out, running his finger along Grogu’s cheek. “It’s in the past. What I was doing… it wouldn’t have been safe for him anyway. I wouldn’t want to drag him into that… or you.”

“Taking back a planet and reuniting one’s people comes with challenges, I’m sure,” Luke joked.

“I didn’t want it,” Din said quietly, like he was confessing to something dark, something unforgivable. “I didn’t care about uniting the Mandalorians. I didn’t care about anything, really. I was in a dark place. I didn’t know what I was doing, what my purpose was. Eventually I trained enough with the Darksaber that I finally went to Bo-Katan so she could challenge me, so I could be rid of it once and for all. But she refused to. Wouldn’t tell me why. So I figured… if I were to possess this— this power, then I owed it to our people to at least try to gain back what we lost.”

“That’s very noble.”

“It was selfish,” Din said. “I had a lot of anger. Even after our agreement, Bo-Katan and the others were still hostile. I had lost my ship, my covert was gone, I’d broken my creed, and the kid…. I didn’t have anything else, so I threw myself into it. Probably a little too recklessly at first. The Nite Owls had to save my skin a few times in the beginning. Eventually Bo-Katan had to talk some sense into me, told me I was no use to anyone if I was dead.”

“I don’t think that’s selfish,” Luke said quietly. “I think that’s human.”

“Grogu- he doesn’t-” Din said suddenly, feeling conflicted. “I thought about him every day. Some days it was the only thing that kept me going, hoping I’d see him again. But I was afraid he’d… think I’d forgotten him. That I abandoned him.”

“Oh, Mando, no,” Luke implored, ungloved hand reaching out to press reassuringly against his vambrace. Luke’s thumb brushed briefly against Din’s bare wrist and the spot tingled like it’d been hit with sparks. 

“He never thought you abandoned him. He knew he’d see you again one day. I told you, the bond you share is too great to keep you separated. The Force would bring you back together when the time was right. He knew that.”

Din nodded, glancing down at Luke’s hand on his wrist. Luke followed his gaze and sheepishly pulled his hand back. Din found himself missing the warmth.

“Din Djarin.”

Luke blinked. “What?”

“My name is Din Djarin,” Din said. “You kept saying you didn’t give me any information when you left. I didn’t either, so.”

“Right,” Luke smiled, looking shy again for some reason. “Hi, Din Djarin.”

Din smiled back beneath the helmet, glad he’d put it on so that Luke couldn’t see the way his neck was heating up at the way his name sounded on the Jedi’s tongue.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Din looking down at Grogu again while Luke fiddled with the glove on his hand. He looked back at Din when he sighed.

“I should go back,” Din said reluctantly. “Before Bo-Katan finds out I’m gone. Axe is supposed to switch guard with Koska soon.”

“Right,” Luke nodded, pushing up from the ground and walking around the couch to walk in the refresher. “I’ll give you a minute.”

The door the refresher slid shut and there was a quiet hiss as the locking mechanism slipped into place. Din carefully reached up a hand to pull his helmet and set it to the side.

He started to lift his hand off Grogu’s stomach and the child shifted. Din froze, but Grogu opened his eyes to squint sleepily up at his father.

“I have to go now,” Din whispered, rubbing his hand on Grogu’s belly. Grogu frowned, a low whine slipping out as he squeezed Din’s fingers.

“I’ll be back to see you before you leave again, I promise.” Din leaned down to press his forehead to Grogu’s and the child’s eyes slipped closed as he leaned into the touch.

“ _Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, Grog’ika.”_

Din leaned up to press a kiss to the child’s head before pulling back. He helped Grogu rearrange on the couch, his eyes already closing as he slipped back into sleep. He waited until the kid’s breathing evened out and gently extracted his hand from Grogu’s hold.

He had slid his helmet back on and was pulling on his gloves when the refresher door opened and Luke stepped out. He walked over to the coffee table by the couch to pick up his lightsaber before walking over to the front door and pulling his boots on.

“You don’t have to walk me back,” Din tried to protest, but Luke waved him off as he clipped his saber to his belt.

“Nonsense. I can’t just let the King of Mandalore walk around without a guard,” Luke said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “What would Bo-Katan think?”

Din rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue when the Jedi walked out in front of him. He turned to get one last look at Grogu sleeping peacefully on the couch before he turned to follow.

The walk to the elevator was quiet, both comfortable in the other’s presence. Once inside, Luke turned to him, holding something out in his hand.

“What’s this?” Din asked.

“It’s a secure comlink,” Luke said. Din glanced down at the small, black rectangle in Luke’s hand. “I’m the only one with the code, so, this way we can talk without anyone interfering. I told you I wasn’t going to keep Grogu from you and I meant it, even if I’ve kind of failed at that up to now.”

Din, looking into Luke’s face and seeing nothing but earnest honesty, reached out to grab the com. Their gloved fingers brushed briefly, and Din felt his stomach swoop nervously. Luke’s face didn’t change, but his neck started to turn a little red the longer Din looked at him.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Din said awkwardly, gesturing vaguely up towards Luke’s quarters. “Leave when I was saying goodbye to Grogu, I mean. Or before that. You’ve seen me without my helmet before.”

“I know,” Luke smiled. “But that wasn’t meant for me, was it?”

Din tried to ignore the way his heart beat slightly faster at Luke’s words.

“I’ve taken it off in front of others quite a lot this past year.”

“But was that because you _wanted_ to, or because you _had_ to?”

Din swallowed heavily, turning from the Jedi’s soft, sympathetic gaze.

“It’s your creed, Din. I wouldn’t force you to break that just to make me more comfortable.”

He met the Jedi’s gaze and saw nothing but truth and openness in Luke’s eyes. Luke smiled sadly at him.

“You don’t get that a lot, do you?”

Luke’s eyes found his through the t-visor and Din felt himself being drawn in. He’d never seen a person’s eyes that shade of blue before, like the color of a clear sky. Something about the Jedi was reeling him in, he wanted to get closer, be closer, and he felt Luke take half a step toward him the same time Din did. The smile had slipped from Luke’s mouth, and Din glanced down at his parted lips before looking back into his wide eyes.

“Luke…” Din trailed off, unsure what to say. He didn’t know what he was feeling. It was like Luke had his own gravitational pull and Din was helpless to it.

The elevator dinged and the door opened, breaking the moment. Luke jerked slightly as he took a step back, clearing his throat. Din made to step off the lift when Luke suddenly lifted an arm to stop him.

“Stop,” Luke said, his face taking on a seriousness that Din hadn’t seen from the Jedi since their meeting on Gideon’s cruiser.

“Something isn’t right.”

Luke stepped carefully from the lift, walking toward Din’s rooms with his hand resting on the hilt of his saber at his waist. Din followed him cautiously and nearly choked once he stepped into the hallway.

There was nothing in the hallway or on the door to Din’s rooms that indicated anything was wrong, but the air around them felt thick, oppressive with something dark, something heavy.

Luke and Din both pulled their sabers, Luke activating his while Din held his tightly in his palm. He made to step forward toward the door, but Luke held his gloved hand out to him.

“Wait,” he said, before closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose. He held his breath for a moment before exhaling slowly and opened his eyes.

“There’s no one inside.”

Din paused, confused. “No one?”

“I don’t sense any lifeforms.”

Din felt a tendril of fear drip down the back of his neck and quickly reached forward to press the button to open the door.

The door slid open to a living room completely destroyed. 

Furniture was overturned, the caf table looked like it had been thrown clear across the room, and the couch was burned, edges crisp where someone had tried to cut it in half. Broken glass littered the floor from the shattered dining table, and the walls were scorched with blaster fire marks and long charred lines.

“I’ll check the back,” Luke said quietly, stepping around broken furniture to head toward the guest room and refresher.

Though the living room looked like a small war zone, Din’s attention was drawn to the cracked door leading to his bedroom. Something inside was pulling at him, calling to him, something dark that made his eye twitch and his skin crawl beneath his armor.

He pressed the activator on the darksaber’s hilt, the black and white glow illuminating bloody handprints on the door as he moved toward it. The closer he got, the more his body was screaming at him to turn around, to run away and not look back. Somehow Din could feel that whatever was in that room was big, it was going to change everything from that point forward. He felt it with the same confidence he’d felt when he saw Grogu for the first time back on Arvala-7.

The darksaber hummed dangerously in his hand.

He pushed the door to the side and stepped in.

He choked, throat tightening and hands shaking as his face paled beneath his helmet. His body felt cold all over, like he’d plunged headfirst into a frozen lake. All the air was sucked from his lungs, from the room around him, and he felt himself wobble where he stood.

The darksaber slipped from his hand, retracting back into the hilt with an overly loud hum before it clanged against the ground.

“Din?” Luke called from behind him. “Din, these scorch marks… it looks like they were made with a-- _oh._ Oh, no.”

Luke stepped up next to him, his lightsaber casting a sinister green light over the scene in the room.

There, dumped unceremoniously on the bed, was a body in beaten, burnt, and bloody Mandalorian armor. The helmet was missing along with the head that housed it, but there was no mistaking the blue armor and the white painted mudhorn on the right pauldron.

He felt Luke’s hands grab onto his arm as his knees gave out from under him.

It was Axe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's any consolation, I hate myself for this too.
> 
> If you really want to hate me, go back and re-read the scenes with Din and Axe while listening to Not In That Way by Sam Smith and cry a lot because that's what I sure did!! Fuck.
> 
> Mando'a Translations:
> 
> Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - colloquial, "I love you"; lit. "I know you forever"  
> Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad - "I know your name as my child"; Mandalorian adoption vow  
> Jetii - Jedi  
> Ad'ika - son, daughter; child  
> Buir - father, mother; parent


	7. we're descending into madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He rested a shaking hand on Axe’s chest, just over his heart, and he felt that tension inside him peak and something dark inside him snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pokes head in* heyyy guys. how's it going? hahaha hope you all enjoyed the last chapter where nothing bad at all happened
> 
> Sorry this chapter is late. It also ends kind of abruptly because I had to cut the chapter in half to keep chapter lengths consistent. But at least it's not a cliffhanger!
> 
> Let me tell y'all, I was struggling this chapter. I had the worst writers block for like a week an then once I finally broke through that I somehow managed to convince myself Din was completely out of character this whole time literally just because he was talking too much lmao  
> After that I went down this rabbit hole where I convinced myself everyone in this story was out of character and everything was moving too slowly and everyone hated it and I think I was just projecting my feelings. I definitely didn't mean to drag the Coruscant plot out this long. Like, I had planned to have everyone back on Mandalore by chapter 5 but that didn't work. But I also didn't want it to feel too rushed?? Anyway, I was spiraling for a hot minute but then I got a few comments that made me feel better so. I'm not super proud of this chapter tbh, but uhhh here it is. Also no one betad this so hopefully there's no glaring mistakes lmao
> 
> Chapter title from Beginning of the End by Klergy

It felt like his lungs were on fire.

He could feel it reaching up, wrapping around his heart and into his throat until his chest was burning and he didn’t know if he was going to scream or throw up.

“Din?  _ Woah _ , hey, look at me.”

Suddenly Luke was in front of him, kneeling and blocking out the view of Axe’s body tossed carelessly on the bed. He’d shut his lightsaber off, leaving the bedroom darkened and Luke’s face half lit by the light coming through the door from the living room.

“Din, you need to breathe,” Luke was saying, hands hovering in front of him as if unsure what to do.

Luke’s arm twitched like he was going to touch him but thought better of it at the last second. Instead, he sat on his knees in front of Din and took deep, exaggerated breaths, his shoulders and chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. It took a moment for Din’s body to get with the program before he took a shuddering, gasping breath in, holding it for a second before exhaling slowly. He felt the burning in his chest dissipate a little with each breath and the tension in Luke’s face relaxed slightly. 

The reprieve didn’t last for long, however, as the burning was quickly replaced by a slow building tension, like a fist closing around his heart, squeezing and tightening in his chest and spreading through his stomach and into his limbs until it felt like his bones were vibrating.

“Din--”

“You need to go,” Din bit out. “People are going to be coming in and out of here, if we don’t want the New Republic to know about us then you shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t know if you should be--”

“Go check on Grogu. Make sure he’s okay; if someone is after me--”

“Grogu is fine, he’s still sleeping and Artoo is with him. Besides, you--”

“ _ Jetii _ ,” Din growled.

Luke jerked back slightly at the tone, his eyes flashing with hurt for a split second before he fell back into his serene Jedi persona, his face carefully blank and eyes empty. Closed off. It made Din feel worse.

“Okay,” Luke said, sitting back onto his heels and standing. He held out a hand and Din slowly grasped it, letting the other man help him up. If Luke noticed the way Din leaned on him a little more than necessary, he didn’t say anything.

Luke bent over quickly to pick up his lightsaber. He grabbed the Darksaber as well, holding it out towards Din wordlessly. Din hesitated for a split second before taking it. It was like he could hear it humming in tune with his simmering ire in the back of his mind, and he couldn’t tell if the vibrations in his hand were coming from the hilt or from within himself. 

“I’ll alert Leia. She can alert everyone else discreetly. We’ll need to call security, have them do a sweep of the building.”

Din nodded, eyes flicking over Luke’s shoulder back toward the bed. His eyes caught on the blood splattered over the mudhorn on Axe’s pauldron, stark red against the white paint. His hand twitched around the saber.

“Are you sure you can--”

“I’m fine,” Din snapped, and Luke’s mouth shut with an audible click of his teeth.

Din swallowed heavily against his frustration. He didn’t mean to be so short with Luke when the man was clearly just trying to help, but his mind was racing a million miles a minute and it was taking everything he had to not lose his mind and actually deal with the situation.

“I’m sorry,” Din said quietly, trying to keep his voice level. “It’s not-- you-- I-I need to call Bo-Katan.”

Luke sighed, running his hand through his hair. He gave Din a hard stare for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line. The blue in his eyes suddenly seemed darker, more piercing, and Din had to fight the urge to push him away out of fear of what Luke might see in him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Luke said finally, his eyes still heavy on Din’s helmet. “I’ll go, but please call me when you can. Let me know what they find.”

Din nodded. Luke continued to examine him for a moment before he too nodded and stepped around Din to walk out of the apartment. Din didn’t move until he heard the front door slide open and shut as he left.

With Luke gone, the darkness that had permeated the room when they’d arrived began to creep back. Din could feel the air thickening with it, the heaviness creeping through the room and beneath his armor making his skin crawl. It felt unnatural. Inhuman. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his senses go heywire. He suppressed a shiver.

He raised the lights slightly so he could better see the scene in the room. In the light Din could see the full extent of the damage Axe took and he clenched his hand around the darksaber’s hilt. The humming got louder, like it was calling out to him, encouraging him, and he quickly strapped it back onto his utility belt.

Axe’s armor was not pure beskar like Din’s, instead made of a duristeel-beskar blend that was strong in it’s own right, but with enough stress, enough pressure it could be damaged. And whoever attacked had gone after Axe’s armor with a vengeance. It was covered in dents and scratches, and had scorch marks littering the chest plate and vambraces. His left pauldron was cracked, burnt. One of his thigh guards looked like it had been crushed, caving in on itself somehow until the sharp edged pierced Axe’s leg through the flight suit, blood shining where it smeared onto the metal. All his armor was still in place except for his helmet - Din distantly remembered that was the only part of Axe’s armor that was pure beskar, and he wondered if the head and helmet had been taken as some kind of sick reward, a trophy, or just to get money from the valuable metal.

There was an odd lack of blood spray around the room or pooled on the bed under Axe. Din took a shaky step forward, trying his hardest to keep calm the longer he examined the body. Axe’s neck was red and irritated and Din watched a couple of small drops of blood drip from the edges and down Axe’s neck. But it was mostly charred, black and smoking along some parts and Din knew that if he removed his helmet and its air filters he’d be smelling burnt flesh. It looked as though the wound had been instantly cauterized somehow, preventing most of the blood from escaping.

Something tickled in the back of his mind and he absentmindedly pressed a hand to the hilt of the Darksaber.

The longer he stared the more that tension inside of him built, squeezing and choking him until he was afraid his body might just combust in the middle of the room. He’d only been gone a couple of hours and Axe’s wounds were fresh, blood still wet and burns still smoking. He’d only just missed the attack. What if he had come back sooner? Would he have been able to stop it? Would he have been able to fight whoever it was off? Would he have been able to save Axe? 

All of the times they’d been in battle together, the countless times Axe had saved Din’s life and Din had done the same, of course it would be now that Din failed to protect him. Now, when Din had abandoned Axe at his station, left him behind to run off with Luke. He’d  _ known  _ something was off about this visit - he’d felt it earlier that day in the chamber with the Senate,  _ he’d  _ told them they needed to be careful, to stick together. Hell, even  _ Ahsoka  _ had warned him to be careful, to trust his instincts, that something bad might happen. But he’d been so distracted by his own feelings, by his need to see Grogu, that he’d run off the first chance he had without thinking about the consequences.

Axe didn’t deserve this. No  _ mando’ade  _ deserved to be disrespected in such a way - armor desecrated, helmet and head  _ stolen _ . Din wasn’t naive, he knew a Mandalorian living to old age was a rare sight. He and Axe had been well aware, given who they were and what they were doing, taking Mandalore back from the Empire, that they may not make it out of this fight alive. They may not live to see the fruits of their efforts. Some part of Din was still trying to make amends with that, the possibility of leaving Grogu behind sooner than he had to, but he knew that Axe had accepted it. He was ready to die for this cause. But like this? Attacked by some  _ hu’tuun _ in the dead of night when everyone’s guard was down? Axe wanted - and deserved - to go out in a blaze of fire, fighting  _ for  _ something, and taking as many with him as he could. He didn’t deserve this. 

He rested a shaking hand on Axe’s chest, just over his heart, and he felt that tension inside him peak and something dark inside him snapped.

Fire raged through him, anger like he hadn’t felt since his fight with Gideon filled his veins and spread through his body. He felt hot, his head throbbing with every heartbeat. He was going to find whoever did this. He was going to find them and he was going to make them hurt the way Axe hurt. He was going to rip them apart, tear them open so slowly they would be begging for death before he left them, let them miserate in their own agony until he came back and did it all again. He wouldn’t let them die - no, he’d let them _ suffer,  _ let them know true fear, true power, so that everyone would know not to fuck with Mandalore--

Bright light flashed through the room, sparks burst above him and glass clattered to the floor. He ducked down, hand flying to the Darksaber on his belt and drawing it, blade singing to life in his hand. He glanced around the room, breathing heavy, but no one else was there. 

The sconce light above the bed was now busted and broken, swinging and scraping along the wall by the wires.

He blinked, suddenly feeling cold. The burning anger he felt previously flushed out like he’d been doused in ice water and left in its place was a strange emptiness. He stared wearily at the Darksaber before he retracted the blade and put it away. He needed to focus. He needed to control himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and let it out on a shaky exhale. He couldn’t lose head like this. He needed to control his emotions. He needed to call Bo-Katan before Leia and the New Republic officers arrived.

He reached into a pouch on his utility belt and pulled out a flat black disk with a red button on the side. He pressed it and a fast, tinny beeping filled the room. With the emergency beacon activated Bo-Katan and Koska would be here in min--

Wait.

He glanced down at the bed. The beeping coming from his device was echoing with a slight delay. He set the device down on the bed and bent down. As carefully as he could he opened the pouches on Axe’s utility belt. He found a spare thermal grenade, a bacta patch, and some random odds and ends before he pulled out a flat black disk matching his own, beeping steadily in his hand.

He, Bo-Katan, Koska, and Axe each had one of these transponders, all connected to each other. They contained an emergency beacon, and if any one of them were to press the button on the side, the others would all be activated and start transmitting a signal for the other three to follow. Bo-Katan had made them all bring one just in case things went south, though Din never thought he’d have to use them.

But Axe didn’t use his. Din’s transponder didn’t go off, didn’t beep even once that night. The whole time, Axe’s transponder sat untouched and undamaged in his pocket. 

So why hadn’t he used it? 

He heard the sound of heavy footsteps running outside, and a second later he heard the hiss of his front door sliding open. There was no movement for a moment, silence as Bo-Katan and Koska took in the room, before he heard Bo-Katan order Koska to go check the second bedroom and refresher.

Bo-Katan rushed in, double blasters drawn, and cleared the four corners of the room before turning to Din and holstering her weapons. Koska shouted an  _ all clear  _ from further in the apartment.

“Are you alright? What happ--”

Bo-Katan cut off as her eyes caught on the body on the bed, and Din heard Koska gasp from the doorway.

Bo-Katan was frozen, stiffer than carbonite, and for a moment Din was afraid she’d stopped breathing like he had earlier. Slowly, her hands came up and lifted her helmet from her head as though that might make the scene in front of her change. Her face was pale, teeth grinding, and her eyes were alight with slowly building rage as she stepped around Din closer to the bed.

“What happened?” Koska asked, her voice strangled.

“I don’t know,” Din admitted. “I-- I wasn’t here.”

Koska jerked back slightly at that, her head tilting to look over Din from head to toe as though she just noticed he was completely unharmed.

“You were-- where the hell were you?”

“I was… I was--”

“Where is he?” Bo-Katan whispered, eyes wild.

“Whoever it was was already gone when I--”

“No,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “ _ where is the Jedi?” _

Din blinked. “What are you talking about?”

How did she know Luke had been here? Had she--

“You think I don’t recognize the work of a lightsaber when I see it?” She yelled, making a sweeping gesture toward the living room and the bed. Din’s heart skipped a beat at the implication.

“The-- What? No- no, Luke didn’t do this--”

“Luke?” Koska asked with a scoff.

“You just said you  _ found  _ him like this, how could you possibly be sure--”

“Luke would never--”

“You’ve met the guy all of two times and you think you know--”

“What reason would he even have--”

“He doesn’t need a reason. I know what his  _ kind  _ are capable of, and I don’t just mean the  _ Jedi,”  _ Bo-Katan spat with more venom than Din had ever heard from her in the entire time he’d known her. “If there is even a  _ chance  _ that this was him, then he needs to be put down  _ immediately--” _

“Luke didn’t do this!” Din shouted in frustration.

“ _ How do you--” _

_ “Because I was with him the whole night!” _

Koska jerked back slightly at his outburst and Bo-Katan blinked before she narrowed her eyes.

“I-- I was with the Jedi,” Din confessed with a sigh. “He came here earlier, asked me if I wanted to see Grogu. I-- I couldn’t  _ not  _ go with him--”

“And Axe just… let you do this?” Koska asked skeptically.

“I…” Din swallowed, “I told him to let me go. I told him to stay behind.”

“ _ Why?!” _

“Because I knew if you came to change guard and we were both gone you’d lose your damn mind!” Din shouted back defensively. “You’d shoot first and ask questions later and we don’t need that right now!”

“So you just, what?” Bo-Katan laughed without humor, cold and scathing. “Left your own man, alone and defenseless.”

“Axe wasn’t  _ defenseless--” _

“Clearly,” she sneered, entire body shaking in fury.

“I--” Din cut himself off and nearly growled in frustration. His hands were shaking again, and his chest was beginning to burn. He took a deep breath.

“It was  _ Grogu,  _ Kryze, I couldn't just--”

“You couldn’t wait until morning?” She yelled, taking a step toward him. “You, what? Abandon us, abandon your people at the first chance to go running off with the  _ Jetii? _ ”

“It wasn’t like that! He is my  _ son _ , Bo--”

“And you are a king!” Bo-Katan shouted, shoving him back against the wall. “And you need to start acting like it! You are the Mand’alor, you have a responsibility to your people, you had a responsibility to  _ Axe _ . At the very least you should have taken him with you, leave no one behind. We need to stay together, that’s what  _ you  _ said, right? Maybe if you’d taken your own advice Woves would still be--”

“ _ Hey! _ ” Koska snapped, stepping up to Bo-Katan and pulling her back. ”Kryze, that’s enough. This is  _ not  _ his fault. He couldn’t have known this was going to happen. Maybe it’s a good thing he went with the Jedi. For all we know, if Din  _ had  _ been here they might both be dead.”

Bo-Katan glared back at Din and yanked her arm out of Koska’s grip. Koska glanced over at Din, who had yet to move away from against the wall where Bo-Katan had pushed him.

“Whoever did this was trying to get to Din, otherwise we all would have been attacked. Which means someone is trying to kill the Mand’alor. While we are still on this planet, the only people we can trust are each other. So if Din says the Jedi didn’t do it, then I trust him.”

_ Don’t you trust me? _

_ You know I do. _

He swallowed hard against the sudden wave of nausea in his throat. 

Bo-Katan still looked angry, but she was no longer shaking as she looked between the two of them. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding jerkily.

She opened her mouth to speak when she was cut off by a pounding at the door, New Republic officers announcing themselves before the door hissed open.

Din cleared his throat.

“Luke called Organa after he left,” Din said quietly, pushing off the wall. “Said she would alert New Republic security and the Senate.”

Bo-Katan didn’t look happy at the prospect of dealing with the New Republic, but she nodded and pulled her helmet back on.

“I’ll deal with them,” she said. They could hear low voices, glass crunching under feet and the sound of pictures being taken. An officer was standing just outside the doorway, waiting for them to acknowledge him. “Koska, stay on Djarin. You two don’t leave them alone with the-- with the body.”

Once Bo-Katan stepped out to talk with the officer, a droid rolled into the room to begin taking pictures of the scene. Din tensed as the thing got closer to Axe’s body, but Koska put a hand on his bicep and pulled him back.

He looked at her, but Koskas gaze was toward Axe, shoulders slumped and posture defeated as she stared at her fallen friend. 

“Hey,” Din said gently, and Koska’s gaze slowly turned to his. “Are you….”

The words died on his tongue, leaving the air between them uncomfortable. Asking if she was okay was foolish - obviously none of them were okay. But Koska had known Axe even longer than Din had, fighting and working together since they escaped the Purge. 

“This is blasphemous,” she whispered, glancing back at the bed. “To attack like this… and to take his helmet? This is more than a warning, this is an insult. They wanted to send a message.”

Din followed her gaze. If the message had been to piss off a bunch of Mandalorians, then the message had been received loud and clear. No matter what happened next, they were going to find whoever had done this and they were going to take them down with a vengeance. Whatever the message had been, they definitely had Mandalore’s attention now.

They would soon learn to regret it, if Din had anything to say about it.

“You know… I thought it was strange that the front door was still functional.” 

Din quirked his head at the non-sequitur.

“I mean, the rest of the apartment is absolutely destroyed, but the only entrance is totally fine? Not exactly breaking and entering.”

Din froze, his mind going back to his earlier line of thinking before Bo-Katan and Koska showed up.

“Koska, when I activated that signal… yours didn’t go off any time before that?”

“No,” she shook her head, “no, everything was quiet until you activated yours.”

“Exactly,” Din said. “After I pressed it, I looked for Axe’s device and it was still in his pocket. It didn’t get knocked out of his hand during the fight, it didn’t get destroyed before he could use it… It was like he didn’t even  _ try  _ to get to it.”

“But if he was being attacked, why wouldn’t he try to call for help?” Koska asked, skepticism lacing her tone.

“Unless he didn’t think he was being attacked.”

Koska stared distantly at the wall for a long moment.

“If he didn’t think he was in danger he wouldn’t have tried to reach the distress signal,” she said slowly. Her visor snapped to his as she came to the same conclusion he had. “But that means— if the entrance is still intact, then—"

“Then Axe must have  _ let _ them in,” Din finished. “Which means whoever did this was someone Axe recognized and didn’t think was a threat.”

“But… no one knew we were here except the Jedi and the Senate. If it wasn’t the Jedi--”

Din nodded, tone dark. “I think someone in the New Republic is even less happy we’re here than we thought.”

~

Hours later and they were back in the same meeting room as the day before, arguing with the Senate.

Or, more accurately, Bo-Katan and Ackbar were at each other's throats and Din wanted nothing more than a painkiller for his quickly building migraine, a bottle of spotchka, and a nap.

He blinked his burning eyes under his helmet, trying not to flinch when they throbbed.

“We should have known better than to trust the New Republic, we never should have come here.”

“What exactly are you implying, Kryze?”

“I’m not  _ implying  _ anything, I’ll say it outright: the New Republic tried to kill the Mand’alor!”

Mothma was seated at the long table in front of Din, Leia to her left. Neither woman had a hair out of place, looking just as regal and powerful as they had the day before, despite the early hour. Daylight was only just breaking when they all entered the room.

Din was sitting in the same chair as before, and the absence of Axe and Koska behind him weighed heavily on his mind, hyper aware of the empty space. Din had ordered Koska to stay with Axe’s body as the New Republic took him to the morgue to be placed in a stasis pod until the Mandalorians left later that day. He told her to make sure nobody did anything to the body and that  _ no one _ tried to touch Axe’s armor.

In the absence of Din’s guard, Mothma had ordered New Republic officers to be stationed around the room and outside the doors to the chamber. Bo-Katan had glared at them when they walked in, and Din didn't feel any more comfortable or safe in their presence either. If anything, their presence heightened the tension that had already permeated the room.

When they all sat down, Mothma began by apologizing and assuring them the Senate and the New Republic would be looking further into the incident, and offered her sympathies for the loss of one of their own. Neither Din nor Bo-Katan had said anything, the silence in the room near suffocating. To her credit, Mothma seemed to take their passive aggression in stride before continuing.

She reported that Ackbar’s men had done a sweep of the building and had found no one who wasn’t supposed to be there. No other attacks had been waged against the other occupants of the building, so it looked like this was indeed a failed attempt on the Mand’alor’s life alone. She also reported that the security feed on the hallway had been tampered with, as it showed no one leaving or entering the rooms after the protocol droid had dropped them off. It didn’t even show the New Republic officers arriving on the scene to investigate.

For a second Din felt relieved, because it meant they didn’t see Luke arrive or Din leave with him, so his connection to the Jedi was still under the radar. But then he’d just felt horrifyingly guilty as he remembered the reason why they needed to check the security feeds in the first place.

“Don’t be ridiculous, no one is--”

“It’s a little suspicious, don’t you think?” Bo-Katan sneered. “No one except the Senate even knew we were going to be on the planet, and even fewer knew where the Mand’alor was staying—“

The arguing had started when Mothma proposed the idea of the New Republic conducting an investigation on the incident, working with the Mandalorians to figure out who was after their king. Bo-Katan had stood up immediately, fuming with eyes flashing as she exclaimed that the New Republic had some nerve thinking Mandalore wanted anything to do with their government after what they had tried to do to their people. 

Ackbar had hopped up after, demanding to know what right Bo-Katan had to talk so poorly of the New Republic, to blame them for the disgusting attack. It had quickly devolved from there, Mothma and Organa unable to reign either person in as Din just sighed tiredly under his helmet.

As the two argued, the door at the back of the chamber opened up and a cloaked figure quietly slid into the room, walking over to stand by a Republic officer along the wall behind Mothma. Din watched him suspiciously, his brows rising when the figure looked up and Din’s gaze met blue eyes.

Luke continued to stand quietly by the wall, face carefully blank and hands folded in front of him. He said nothing, eyes flickering back and forth between Bo-Katan and Ackbar fighting, and Din. Mothma made no move to acknowledge the Jedi, but Din saw Organa’s head turn slightly in his direction before turning back to the verbal crossfire in front of them.

Din closed his eyes as his head continued to throb. He wished it was a few hours ago, when he was sitting on the floor of Luke’s quarters and listening to the soothing, rhythmic breathing of his son. When the rest of the world was closed off, set aside, and it was just him and Grogu and Luke sitting by that couch talking in the dim night lighting. It had been so easy to talk to Luke, feeling fully content for the first time in a year and a half in the presence of his son and the Jedi. The rest of the world had faded away for a few blissful hours.

Or even before that, standing in his room after that disaster meeting with the Senate, laughing and joking with Axe. He craved Axe’s steady, stalwart demeanor, reassuring and reliable. Din didn’t realize quite how much he’d come to rely on Axe’s presence. He always seemed to know exactly what Din needed to hear, always knew the right thing to say. He longed to have Axe here, now, and he felt a hollow pang in his chest. He thought about the way Axe had looked at him so openly earlier, eyes so vulnerable without the helmet, reassuring Din that he wasn’t a complete failure as Mand’alor.

_ I think you’re more than enough. _

He certainly didn’t feel like it now.

Din tried to cover his wince as Bo-Katan and Ackbar’s shouting grew louder.

“To accuse this Senate of such a vile act, Kryze, with no evidence to support it is not only an insult, it is--”

“Oh, you want to talk about insults? When not even a full cycle ago you were looking to use my people as fodder for your armies? When you accused us of being Imperial sympathizers because we actually had the balls to say no?”

“That is not what--”

“You said yourself that Mandalorians are the best warriors in the Galaxy, Admiral,I would love nothing more than to give you a  _ personal _ demonstration as why that is so--”

“Admiral,” Mothma tried to interrupt, “Lady Kryze, can we please--”

“Are you  _ threatening  _ me?”

“That is not a threat, Ackbar, it is a  _ promise-- _ ”

Din’s head gave another vicious throb and suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore. He squeezed the spear in his hand and slammed it down against the floor, the loud, high-pitched ringing of pure beskar flooding the room. Ackbar, Mothma, and Organa all flinched back, reaching up to cover their ears against the harsh sound. Bo-Katan stopped, turning from where she stood to look over at Din. In the corner, Luke did not move, just continued to stare at Din with an unreadable expression beneath his hood.

“Both of you, sit down and _ shut up _ ,” Din said firmly once the ringing died down, letting some of his frustration drip into his tone. “Your bickering is accomplishing nothing except giving me a headache.”

“I agree,” Mothma said with a harsh frown. “Admiral, Lady Kryze, please sit down.”

Ackbar grumbled under his breath, but sat down without any more fuss. Bo-Katan continued to stand, glaring down at the Mon Calamari until Din pointedly cleared his throat and she quietly sat down.

“Chancellor, on the topic of an investigation, I’m afraid I must agree with my advisor,” Din said, hand clenching around the spear. “Given the timing and the circumstances surrounding the… attempt on my life, I, frankly, do not trust that the New Republic was not involved in some capacity.”

Ackbar huffed in his seat, but was silenced by an icy glare from Leia.

Mothma sighed, but nodded.

“I admit, Mand’alor, I have to agree. The situation paints a very poor picture for the Senate and you have every right to be suspicious. We will be conducting a full internal investigation of our own to see if there has been any subterfuge within our own ranks. If you ever decide you would like the New Republic’s help investigating the matter, please let us know and we will offer whatever resources we can to assist you.”

Din bowed his head. “Thank you.” 

“What is the Jedi doing here?” Bo-Katan spoke up suddenly, glaring at Luke.

“He is here at my own request,” Mothma said, waving Luke over to join them. He lowered his hood as he walked over to stand behind Mothma.

“The old Jedi Order stood as guardians of peace and justice in the Galactic Republic, and for centuries before then,” Mothma explained diplomatically. “They were known to take missions to help resolve conflicts within the galaxy, and acted as guards to those in need who requested their assistance. Because of this… unfortunate incident, you now find yourself down a guard. If someone within the Core is after you, I would feel remiss to send you back to Mandalore with less protection than when you arrived. If you are willing, I have asked Master Skywalker to escort you back to Mandalore himself to ensure your safety.”

“We do not need help from the  _ Jetii,”  _ Bo-Katan said before Din could speak. “Nor from the New Republic.”

She glared over at Ackbar who bristled, but did not speak.

“It is merely an offer of assistance,” Luke spoke up, his voice calming. “A gesture of goodwill. Like I said yesterday, I know the Jedi and Mandalorians have a… long history, to put it lightly. But I do not wish that to be the case anymore. Our people are both victims of the Empire, Lady Kryze, and if it is within my power to help Mandalore from falling again, then I wish to help.”

Bo-Katan turned to look at Din, eyebrow raised, and Din held her gaze. She narrowed her eyes at him before turning back to Luke.

“This is purely my decision,” Luke added. “I don’t work for the New Republic. Had the Chancellor not reached out to me, I would have offered on my own once I found out.”

“How will you get back here if you travel on our ship?” She asked, her tone giving away nothing. “I am not providing an escort back for one man.”

Luke shrugged. “I have an X-Wing and an astromech. I can stick him in there and your Kom’rk should be big enough to tow it along if he provides steering assist.”

Bo-Katan stared at the Jedi for a long moment, eyes calculating. Luke just gave a small, amicable smile back at her. Din glanced between the two, unsure what exactly was happening.

“Of course, my Padawan would have to come with me as well,” Luke said suddenly, glancing at Din. “Where I go, he goes, and I feel this could be a good… learning experience for him.”

Din jerked his head back to Bo-Katan before he could stop himself, hope rising within him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Organa hide a small smile behind her hand.

Bo-Katan sighed tiredly, finally breaking eye-contact with the Jedi to look at Din. Din swallowed, realizing the decision was his to make, and gave one quick, sharp nod.

“Fine,” Bo-Katan bit out, teeth clenched. “We will accept the Jedi’s help.”

Luke grinned and gave a small bow to Din.

“But any funny business and I will throw you out of the airlock myself,” she added.

“Naturally,” Luke agreed easily. “I would expect nothing less.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Internet: The Mand'alor isn't technically a *king*, more like a figurehead  
> Me, who is obsessed with the thematic parallels between Din Djarin and Arthurian legend: ..........so anyway, he's the KING-
> 
> Also! I'm trying to make a playlist for this fic, so if you have any good dinluke song suggestions let me knowwww because the dinluke ~feelings~ start next chapter (finally, 30,000+ words later)

**Author's Note:**

> ngl comments motivate the hell out of me lol
> 
> uhhhh I'm on tumblr? @superhusbands4ever


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